


a heart that i can't even use

by orphan_account



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Bede/Gloria (one-sided), Champion!Gloria, Confessions, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Professor!Hop, Smut, background Leon/Sonia, implied Nessa/Sonia (one-sided), minor Raihan/Gloria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24486562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hop’s starting to hear a faint ringing in his ears whenever someone brings up Gloria. That's probably not a good sign.
Relationships: Hop/Yuuri | Gloria, Yuuri | Gloria & Mary | Marnie
Comments: 31
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Need You" by Allie X (feat. Valley Girl).

“Professor Hop? I’ve brought the files you asked for.”

“Right, thanks Stella. You can leave them on my desk,” says Hop, not looking up from his map of particle hotspots. Its little green numbers have been mocking him all morning. The stack Stella’s brought makes a loud thump on his desk, a sure sign that he’s in for another week of all-nighters.

“Made any progress since this morning?” Stella asks, making her way to the kitchenette. She coos something to Dubwool and pats his fluffy head. Dubwool bleats happily.

Hop tries not to watch them, ignoring the familiar twinge of guilt. Dubwool brightens up only when Stella’s around these days. He's been down ever since they moved the lab to Wyndon. Hop can't really blame him; Wyndon’s convenient in ways that Wedgehurst just isn’t, but the lack of greenery really does wear them down. Understandably, Dubwool much prefers sunny pastures to crowded city streets.

“Not at all,” says Hop with a sigh. “Maybe I ought to give Sonia a ring to see if she’s got any ideas.”

“Oh! That reminds me—did you know that Professor Sonia’s in town? I saw her by the station earlier. She had the stroller with her.”

Hop raises his eyebrows. “Sonia’s here? What’s she doing all the way over in Wyndon?”

Stella shrugs. She scratches a spot behind Dubwool’s ears absentmindedly and watches him pace back and forth.

“You don’t suppose she’s here to visit,” says Hop, unearthing his coffee mug from beneath stacks of loose paper. He takes a long, bracing sip.

Another shrug from Stella. “I dunno, sir.”

“The lab’s not in a right state for visitors,” observes Hop, staring dolefully at the dishes piled high in the sink. He’d taken Stella on as his assistant in hopes of straightening the lab out, but she’s pants at tidying up. She’d also never take it lying down if he were to ask her to sweep the floors. _Not your secretary, sir,_ Stella had quipped the first and only time he’d asked.

“I don’t think she’ll mind. She’s not the fussy type, right? And I’m sure she’s used to it by now.”

“Used to what?” Sonia’s voice rings out by the door, startling them both. Stella leaps to her feet with an excited yelp. She rushes over to help Sonia with the stroller and an impressive array of shopping bags. Sonia lifts her free arm for a side-hug, beaming at her. She adjusts baby Maggie on her hip and nods at Hop, who’s watching them with a gobsmacked expression on his face. Speak of the devil.

With Dubwool bleating an enthusiastic greeting and Yamper barking loud enough to annoy the neighbors, they’re the very picture of chaos and good cheer. Maggie shrieks with laughter over it all, squirming against her mother’s hip as she reaches for the dancing Pokémon.

“Sonia! And Maggie! We weren’t expecting you,” exclaims Hop, wending his way through teetering stacks of books to reach them. “What’re you doing in Wyndon? With the baby, no less,” Hop adds, flashing a goofy grin at his niece. Maggie squeals a laugh and buries her face into Sonia’s jacket, kicking her little feet when Hop pretends to tickle her.

“We’re here for Leon’s exhibition match, so of course we wanted to stop by,” says Sonia, handing Maggie over to Hop with a tired smile. “And Maggie’s missed her uncle, hasn’t she?”

“Pbbbbbttt,” bubbles Maggie. She grabs a sticky fistful of Hop’s hair.

“Right, completely forgot about Lee’s match,” says Hop, barely dodging Maggie’s other hand as she swats at his face. “You’re staying the weekend, then?”

“Depends on the match,” says Sonia, taking a seat at the table beside Stella. She beams down at Dubwool as he totters over. “He’s up against our Champion, isn’t he? Who knows how long that’ll take.”

Hop cradles the back of Maggie’s head and falls silent. Right, Gloria. She’d be there.

“Gloria’s back from Kalos? I haven’t seen anything on the news. Or on RotoGram,” Stella pipes up. She’s already frowning down at her phone, presumably scrolling through her social media accounts. “My dash would be flooded by now if anyone knew about it.”

“I believe she came back just last night,” says Sonia, and Hop knows it’s directed at him. “Leon met her for coffee this morning.”

“Are you going after lunch?” asks Stella. “I hope they still have seats left--I hadn’t thought to preorder tickets!”

“Oh, just come and sit with us! There’s plenty of room in the box,” says Sonia. “Hop, you ought to come too. You’d never miss a chance to watch Lee battle. Or Gloria, for that matter.”

“Just one match,” pleads Stella. “Then we can come right back, promise!”

Stella’s pleas would have fallen on deaf ears normally, since there’s far too much to take care of at the lab, but—

“All right,” says Hop, defeated. Better to just get it over with. “But just for one match. Deal?”

-

Gloria’s gathering her hair into a messy ponytail when Bede walks into the locker room.

“You look awful,” is the first thing Bede says, squinting at her. “You’re going on live television looking like this?”

“Cheers, mate.” She’d knee him in the groin if they were anywhere else. “I just got in last night. My flight was delayed due to the storm.”

“That explains the dark circles. But your hair is something else entirely.”

“Can’t be helped,” says Gloria, combing fingers through her bangs. “People don’t watch for my pretty face, anyway. They watch for the giant Pokémon pummeling each other.”

Bede cocks an eyebrow. “It doesn’t hurt to be camera-ready. The press will have a ball with your Pancham eyes and haystack hair.”

“If you say so.”

Bede sighs. He gestures impatiently for her to turn around, the better to fix her hair. He does this like it’s the most natural thing in the world, but Gloria remembers a time when it wasn’t.

When she’d first been crowned Champion of Galar, Bede had been much more awkward around her. He’s softened somewhat over the years, but she’d been dismayed to learn that the prickly side of him hadn’t been a front after all.

“You’ve dyed it again,” Bede murmurs, brushing out tiny knots in her ponytail. “At this rate, you’ll be bald by next year’s Gym Challenge.”

“Better than wearing a Wooloo on my head.”

“For the last time, it’s _not_ —”

“Are you two bickering again?” Nessa interjects. Bede jerks away from Gloria as if burned, but it’s too late for it to escape Nessa’s notice. She raises her eyebrows at them both. “Ah, or maybe it’s something else.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” snaps Bede, cheeks pink as he walks away to get changed.

“A shame we’re not facing each other today,” says Nessa wryly, watching Bede stalk off to the changing stalls. “I’ve been meaning to try my new team out against you, Gloria. But maybe it won’t be so bad to beat fairy boy into the ground first.”

“I’m looking forward to that,” says Gloria mildly. She brushes lint off her shorts and adjusts the collar of her freshly laundered uniform. Ten years later and the Champion suit still looks big on her. She doesn’t wear a long cape embroidered with various company logos, and she doesn’t run around doing the Charizard pose for fans. Galar isn’t sure what to make of their introverted Champion, but oh well. They’re stuck with each other for now.

 _You’re a different Champion than I was,_ Leon had said this morning, a wry smile on his face.

Nessa touches her shoulder. Gloria glances up, surprised.

“You’re plenty fit,” says Nessa, winking. “Don’t overthink it.”

Gloria smiles shyly. Nessa still dazzles her up close. They’re not friends, not really, but they do get along in locker rooms and exhibition matches.

The sirens blare out in the stadium, right on cue. It’s time for another tournament to start.

-

Gloria finishes off Gordie’s team in record time. She looks fierce and determined on the Jumbotron, strands of dark hair flying away from her face, eyes blazing bright as she Dynamaxes her Inteleon at the last minute. Inteleon makes short work of Gordie’s Coalossal, washing it away with a brutal blast of Hydro Pump. The crowd roars so loudly that Hop is forced to cover his ears.

“She’s done it again!” cheers Stella next to him. “Absolutely brilliant!” She jumps up and down, yelling and waving her flags. Hop would tell her to quiet down, but _he’s_ the odd one out here: everyone else in their box is going mad for Gloria.

When the camera zooms into Gloria’s face after the battle, Hop notices the circles under her eyes. They seem to disappear when she grins at her adoring audience. She raises one gloved hand to wave at them graciously, turning in a slow circle.

“Gonna find the loo,” Hop says abruptly, rising from his seat. He doesn’t miss the look Sonia shoots him.

-

The bathrooms at Wyndon Stadium are ridiculous. Nothing needs to be this shiny and grandiose, not even the bloody Queen’s royal chambers. Macro Cosmos had spared no expense when it came to building this thing.

Hop’s tiny lab, with its leaks and noisy old pipes, could really use a makeover, and preferably a well-funded one at that. Sonia never had to deal with this sort of thing when she’d taken over for her gran, but Hop, determined to move out of Wedgehurst or die trying, had no such luck. He can barely afford to pay Stella as it is.

Hop stares blankly into the mirror over the sink, thoughts drifting in wayward directions. There are dark circles under his eyes, too. They’re grayish purple, blending easily into his skin, but they’d be obvious to anyone who would look close enough.

There’s no one to really look close enough these days, though. Stella might notice, but she’s wise enough to not comment. And Hop mostly Rotom Chats other researchers or colleagues. They have filters for that, thank god.

“Hop! What’re the chances,” a familiar voice calls out. Hop jumps and splashes cold water down his shirt.

It’s Raihan, of course. He’s still huge, towering over Hop much like he did when Hop was ten. He looks absolutely the same a decade later, only now he’s traded in the headband and hoodie combo for a loose ponytail and massive weather-proof goggles. After losing _again_ to Gloria in a match last year, he’d even gone against League protocol and inked up both his arms and chest. Stella had spent half a day mooning over his RotoGram pics while procrastinating on some data entry.

“You look good, mate,” says Raihan, soaping up his hands beside him. “Saw your brother earlier in the waiting room. He said you came with Sonia.”

“She coerced us into coming. No use fighting it,” says Hop, smiling weakly.

Raihan guffaws like Hop’s just told a hilarious joke. “Come off it, you wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he says, swatting his shoulder. “You nearly have me and Leon beat when it comes to passion for battling. And you wouldn’t miss out on your best mate’s final match!”

Hop flicks the water off his fingertips and backs away, already halfway to the door. He’s starting to hear a faint ringing in his ears whenever someone brings up Gloria. Probably not a good sign. “I, er, need to get back,” he says apologetically, but Raihan’s busy inspecting his face in the mirror.

“I’ll just be a minute,” he says, distracted. “Let’s head back together, yeah? I’ve gotta go back to the pitch, and you’re over the same way.”

“Right,” sighs Hop. Maybe it’s inevitable for him to get cornered by old, familiar faces like this. He’d been dreading it ever since Sonia showed up at the lab.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” says Raihan, leaning away from his reflection with a satisfied smile. “Gloria’s not with anyone new, right?”

Hop drops his phone. Rotom buzzes to life before hitting the floor and flashes angrily at him, zipping around his legs to pop back into his shoulder bag. It vibrates again as if to tell him off, but Hop’s too shaken to care.

“I--I don’t know,” he says.

“Really?” Raihan says, eyebrows shooting up. “I thought you’d know better than anyone. Nessa and Marnie won’t tell me a thing, but I’m used to that.”

Hop nods numbly, unable to contribute anything of substance. They leave the bathroom together and walk past gaggles of people in the lobby. The noise level makes it hard to hear Raihan as they make their way back, but Hop hears the important bits anyway.

“D’you think it’s Bede? They’re practically attached at the hip these days,” shouts Raihan over the heads of a middle-aged lady and her teenage daughter. They both crane their heads back to gawk at Raihan, stunned to see him in the flesh, or perhaps interested in their conversation. The daughter catches Hop’s eye next and her jaw drops. Hop scowls, shading his face with a hand. He really should have worn a cap today.

“I really, really don’t know,” says Hop, steering Raihan away from any eavesdroppers. Raihan grins at him knowingly. “And I don’t think she’d appreciate you spreading rumors at a tournament like this. Bede too, for that matter.” Not that Hop gives a shite about what Bede thinks, though.

“Just curious. I’m sure she’s got no shortage of admirers.” Raihan pauses just before the elevator leading up to the waiting room. He turns back to Hop, expression thoughtful. “Always thought you two would end up together, if I’m honest.”

“Sorry mate,” Hop says, grimacing. “I’ve no clue who Gloria fancies. Or if she’s seeing anyone right now. Better to just ask her directly.”

“Fair enough,” says Raihan with a sigh. “See you ‘round then, Hop. Come by the gym sometime for a match. No need to be a stranger, all right?”

-

Bede’s waiting for her by the elevator after her final match. Clearly the Battle Tower had sharpened Leon’s edges considerably; it’d been a close match, but she’d managed to win in the end. Raihan also had put up a magnificent fight as per usual, and Gloria had won handily, as per usual. Raihan’s handshake after their battle had been especially tight. His smile had been genuine, but she hadn’t missed the stiffness in his shoulders as he walked away.

“Next year, they should limit your team to a single type like the rest of us,” says Bede by way of greeting.

Gloria rolls her eyes. “What about Leon, then?” she asks. “Besides, I did that last year and still wiped the floor with you.” She’d even exclusively used Dark-type Pokemon. Bede had refused to speak to her for months afterward.

Bede waves her remark away easily enough. He’s distracted, already focusing on other aspects of their respective performances. He critiques and picks apart everyone’s move sets and terrain changes, sparing no one, not even himself. He walks with her through the back entrance and keeps apace as they take the long way back to the hotel.

“You’re not joining the other Gym Leaders for dinner?” Gloria asks, nodding at the group behind them. Marnie’s already sent a few messages to the group chat they’re in. ‘ _dont you two dare sneak off,’_ she says, followed by an angry Morpeko emoji. ‘ _ur not leavin me alone with these ppl like last time!’_

Bede doesn’t even look at his phone.

“You’re not going either,” Bede points out.

“Yeah, but I’m not a Gym Leader.”

“You’re the bloody Champion. If anyone needs to go, it’s you.”

“I told Marnie I’m knackered after the late flight yesterday. Can’t have a tired Champion getting wasted and making a fool of herself in public.”

“You don’t need to be wasted for that.”

Gloria shoves Bede away so that he stumbles on the sidewalk. Two girls passing by on the other side of the street laugh, whispering to each other and stealing looks at Bede. Bede glares daggers at her for a good five minutes, huffing whenever she tries to resume their conversation.

“I’ve got an excuse, but you don’t,” says Gloria after a while, trying to veer back into earlier territory. She softens her voice just slightly, enough so that Bede knows she’s being sincere. “And it could be nice. You’re always busy with Gym affairs back in Ballonlea. It wouldn’t be so bad to let loose just for tonight, now would it?”

Bede averts his eyes and says nothing, gaze on the winding river to their right.

“...I’ll go,” he says eventually. “I just wanted to change first.”

They reach the hotel and Gloria beelines for the elevator, eager to throw herself face first into bed. Bede parts ways with her at the seventh floor, where all the male Gym Leaders are staying. Gloria continues on until the thirteenth.

By the time she reaches her suite, Gloria’s both tired and keyed-up, which is a horrible state to be in. When she was younger she had no problem knocking out early after tournaments, but nowadays she just can’t.

Gloria drags herself to the fancy bathroom and into the fancy shower, mechanically scrubbing soap into her skin and swaying on her tired feet. Her skin hums with the usual post-battle high, scenes of her battles flashing through her mind at warp speed. She replays the mistakes she’d made: switching out Dragapult too soon, forgetting the right type matchup against Leon’s Mr. Rime, not smiling wide enough for the cameras. If she were the kind of trainer to record her matches with her phone, she’d have the option to pick apart her every move in real life. Thankfully, Gloria has never been that kind of trainer.

After showering, Gloria flops onto her bed with her Rotom phone. She scrolls through posts while her hair dries, methodically swiping through messages and missed calls from earlier in the day. Tournament days were always like this--tons of messages on social media, tons of emoticons and well-wishes in group chats. So much happens when she’s on the pitch, it’s like an entire lifetime flashes by. Today there’s more of the standard fare: three missed calls from her mum, thousands of comments on Chatot and RotoGram, and even a few emails from old mentors. Gloria gets a little teary-eyed reading the ones from Kabu and Professor Magnolia. She skims through everything else.

Leon had sent her a long message, too. He’s proud of her, proud of who she’s become. And next tournament he’s beating her for sure.

Gloria recalls Leon’s tired smile over coffee this morning. She’d been hit hard by the resemblance to his younger brother, sneaking furtive glances at him when he wasn’t looking. Hop looks more and more like Leon if his RotoGram selfies are anything to go by.

The first few years of being Champion, Gloria had had Leon on speed dial. He talked her through the sobfests after press conferences and stressful interviews. She’d spent countless hours on the phone with Leon trying to listen to him, desperately trying to take his words to heart.

“No one teaches you how to do these things,” Leon had reassured her over the phone, soothing in a way she’d desperately needed. Never mind that it should have been _Hop_ reassuring her. “But you have to do them, Gloria. It’ll get better, I promise. _You_ get better.”

A text notification drops down on her screen, interrupting her line of thought. It’s Bede, grousing about the damn after party.

 **Bede:** I hate this.  
**Bede:** I can’t believe I listened to you  
**Gloria:** ha  
**Bede:** Shut up  
**Bede:** You should be here too. It’s not fair.  
**Gloria:** it looks fun  
**Gloria:** im looking at melanies pics  
**Gloria:** *marnies  
**Bede:** If I’m in any of them, tell me and I’ll report her.  
**Gloria:** dude relax  
**Gloria:** she put a lil pecha sticker over your face  
**Gloria:** [link]  
**Bede:** That’s even worse.  
**Gloria:** lol  
**Gloria:** stop talking to me and go socialise  
**Gloria:** make friends  
**Gloria:** dance with milo and nessa  
**Bede:** What is wrong with you  
**Bede:** Have you been drinking?  
**Gloria:** no  
**Gloria:** im sober  
**Bede:** Could’ve fooled me.  
**Gloria:** rude

Once a few minutes pass without any word from Bede, Gloria turns on the TV and flicks through the channels, not searching for anything specific.

There’s some random Johto soap opera playing when someone knocks on her door. It’s so faint over the noise from the TV that she almost doesn’t hear it. But whoever it is knocks again, and Gloria sits up immediately, ears pricking up like a Bunnelby’s in a clearing.

She has to do a double take when she first peers through the peephole and sees only a torso and legs. Her brain takes a second to catch up.

Raihan practically twinkles down at her as she pulls open the door. Gloria squints up at him. His white teeth are hard to look at after sitting in the dark for so long.

“Thought you might be up,” says Raihan at normal volume. “Didn’t see you at the after party, so I figured you were back here.”

“I was about to fall asleep, actually.”

“Doubt it. Mind if I come in?”

Raihan brushes past her and flicks on a few lamps, kicking off his dress shoes on the way. He’s already helping himself to the wet bar by the time she joins him.

“I dunno if I’ll ever get along with your mate,” says Raihan, pouring her and himself glasses of champagne. Gloria takes the glass from him with a resigned shrug, already aware of who he’s talking about. Bede isn’t exactly a charmer.

“He’s an acquired taste,” Gloria says, sipping her champagne before Raihan can do something obnoxious and toast to her victory. Raihan pouts.

“I think I liked Opal better. She was difficult to talk with in a different way. Bede’s just… rude,” Raihan reflects, downing his glass in one go and quickly helping himself to another. Gloria shakes her head when he raises the bottle in her direction. “You’d think Opal would have drilled manners into her protégé, but who knows. Maybe she did, and it just didn’t take.”

“To be fair,” says Gloria drily, “you were probably pestering him. You’re not exactly tactful yourself.” She gestures vaguely at him with her glass. “Case in point, you barging in like this.”

Raihan flashes her a sleazy grin. “You mean you weren’t expecting me? Don’t play coy, mate. We’re past all that.”

“Just tell me why you’re here,” says Gloria, rubbing the skin between her eyebrows and leaning back against her bed.

Raihan’s eyelids start to droop from the booze. He idly picks at his dress shirt collar, loosening his tie. He seems to be stalling for some reason.

“Right then,” Raihan says. His smile stiffens, and Gloria is reminded of his rigid shoulders right after they’d finished on the pitch. “I’m sure you already know why I’m here.”

”Not a clue.”

“Gloria--”

“I’m jet-lagged and probably PMSing, all right? Just tell me. Then you can go on your way, and I can finally get some sleep.”

Raihan blinks, cocking his head. “You never used to talk to me like that,” he says. “Wonder what changed.”

“I was ten, Raihan.”

“Not that much younger than me.”

“Eight years isn’t ‘that much younger’? Come off it.”

“It’s not if you think about, say, Opal and Bede, or Kabu and Victor.”

“An odd comparison to make,” says Gloria, shaking her head. “You’re hardly my mentor.”

“But I’d offer to be in an alternate universe. One where you aren’t Champion, that is.”

“Is that why you’re here? To ask me to be your pupil?”

Raihan blows out a sigh, laughing softly. “Gloria, don’t be ridiculous.”

There’s silence after that, the two of them staring each other down in an unspoken contest.

“I saw Hop earlier,” says Raihan, changing the subject without warning. “Ran into him in the loo.”

“Fantastic,” says Gloria. She sets her glass down on the nightstand and rolls over in bed, heart aching. Bloody Raihan, hitting her where it hurts. It doesn’t help that he’s always been a chatty drunk.

“I asked him about you,” continues Raihan. His voice changes, but Gloria can’t tell what his face is doing. She pictures him grimacing, arms linked behind his head. The way he does after he loses a match.

“I don’t want to talk about Hop,” she mutters.

Raihan stays silent for so long that Gloria almost thinks he’s left the room. But then the bed dips as Raihan sits on the side of it.

“Think I’ll just sleep here tonight,” he says, not really asking for permission. His mind is already made up, and he’s too drunk to listen to her anyway.

“If you snore, I’m kicking you out. I’ll leave you there for housekeeping or some lucky fangirls to find.”

“Love you too, Gloria,” mutters Raihan, already drifting off to sleep.

-

“--could be nice, you know. Mum hasn’t seen you in ages. She keeps nagging me to bring you over whenever we stop by with Mags.”

Half-asleep, Hop drags his eyes to Leon’s eager face with some effort. Sonia and Maggie are out visiting Sonia’s mother in the Park district, leaving Hop to entertain Leon at the lab. It would be great if he weren’t so behind on this week’s results.

Leon’s not to blame for that, though. Hop’s been off his game ever since the tournament last weekend. Maybe even longer than that, if he’s not holding back.

“I’d planned on visiting during the holidays anyway, Lee. No need to convince me.”

“Really? Brilliant! Sonia said you’d come around. Mum and Dad will be ecstatic to have you back. It’s been ages, Hop.”

“I know,” says Hop, swallowing the guilt down. “I’ve just been busy with work. I’ll bring home some nice treats from Mum’s favorite bakery to make up for it.”

If Leon knows the real reason why Hop’s been avoiding home, he graciously keeps silent about it.

“It’ll be just like old times,” Leon says, clapping a warm hand down on Hop’s shoulder.

Hop smiles, hoping against hope that it really isn’t.

-

But of course it is.

Gloria’s mum hugs him for too long and pelts him with questions about Wyndon, the lab, and his lackluster love life, all before the first course is served. She’s nearly as excited as Hop’s own mother is at seeing him again.

“All grown up and just as handsome as your brother,” she gushes. It’s a bit surreal to have to bend down to hug her now. Even his dad has to look up to meet his eyes.

“You’re looking great yourself, Mrs. C,” says Hop.

It’s a surprisingly low-key evening, all things considered. Hop had ridden the train over to Wedgehurst with a leaden weight sinking in his gut, steeling himself for a meeting with Gloria, Bede, or both. Marnie can’t make it tonight since she’s wrapped up in Gym duties, Victor’s overseas for a tournament, and Sonia’s still visiting her parents with Maggie and Yamper. He’s on his own tonight.

Hop brings Dubwool along for the trip, already anticipating Dubwool’s excitement at being back where it’s green and blissfully quiet. He’d spend all day hiding out with Dubwool in the Slumbering Weald if it weren’t for his mum’s stern look.

He’s nearly in the clear by the time the sun sets. Everyone’s inside helping his parents with the cleanup, and Gloria’s still nowhere to be seen.

“She’s harder to get a hold of than you are, dear,” Gloria’s mum admits to Hop, a line forming between her eyebrows. When she’s sitting right beside him, it’s easier to see the crow’s feet by her eyes and the thin streaks of silver in her hair. “Sometimes I wish she’d retire early from the Champion thing. It can’t be good for her stress levels, all this touring and constant press exposure. She’s only twenty--that’s too young to be carrying the entire region’s expectations on her back!”

“Twenty is old enough,” says Leon, raising his glass at Gloria’s mum with a smile. “Gloria’s a natural at the whole Champion thing. She’s doing far better than I was at her age.”

Hop doesn’t miss the way Leon’s smile dims for a split second. No one else seems to catch it though, and Hop knows better than to acknowledge it. Leon’s still so private about his losses. Hop knows all too well what that’s like.

After dessert, the entire party starts to trickle out into the summer night. Gloria’s mum kisses Hop on the cheeks and stuffs a thick envelope into his bag before he can say anything. Leon is next, donning a light jacket as he prepares to ride over to Motostoke, a halfway point where he’ll meet Sonia and Maggie. His mum’s friends, mostly neighbors with their own kids who’ve gone off on Gym Challenges, start to say their goodbyes as well, their voices fading into the distance as Hop climbs the stairs to his room.

It’s just the way he’d left it. Every wrinkle in his bed sheets, every lopsided poster and pair of dirt-flecked trainers. It’s almost as if young Hop had died and his grieving parents had preserved his room exactly as it was.

Smiling wryly at his morbid thoughts--really, the lab stress must be getting to him--Hop sinks down onto his bed, comforted by the familiar creaking.

A second later, someone knocks on his door.

“It’s unlocked, mum,” he calls.

The door opens. It’s not his mum.

-

Hop gapes at her like she’s grown two heads. Not a great first sign, but Gloria can work with that.

“Hi,” she says, closing the door behind her. “Your mum let me in.”

Gloria can’t help but stare at Hop for a minute or two, stunned by the changes. He’s still a string bean, mostly sharp elbows and lanky limbs, but his shoulders are broader and he has five o’clock shadow now. Save for his glasses and mess of close-cropped curls, Hop’s the spitting image of Leon. His golden eyes, huge behind his frames, are familiar in a way that makes her both nervous and giddy.

Hop stares back at her for one long moment. Then he drops his gaze to his lap and clears his throat.

“You, er, missed the barbecue.”

“I know. I had some League business to finish up. I came over as fast as I could,” says Gloria, rubbing her arm. “Your mum was nice enough to save me a plate. God, I’ve missed her cooking.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Right? Campfire curry just isn’t the same. And I’m still useless in the kitchen.”

“I’m not much better. Lee makes fun of me whenever he visits. Says that we always have to order takeaway like students.”

“You’re a professor now,” says Gloria. Hop grins sheepishly. “It makes sense that you’d be too busy to feed yourself. Can’t imagine living in busy Wyndon helps with that.”

“I’m sure all your jet-setting as Champion puts my own schedule to shame. You’ve just returned from Kalos, isn’t that right?”

Gloria tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling. It’s nice that he’d noticed. “Yeah, right before the tournament last weekend. I’m finally getting over the jet lag.”

“You were brilliant, by the way. I saw your match.”

“Oh! Thank you. I didn’t know you were there. Raihan mentioned that he’d seen you, though.”

Hop does something funny with his face. He almost looks constipated, lips tightening and hands fidgeting in his lap, but then his brow clears and he looks fine again.

“Yeah, I ran into him in the loo. Haven’t seen him in ages, so it was a bit of a shock to see the new uniform,” says Hop, scratching the side of his nose. “He’s still a bit of a wanker, though.”

“Agreed,” Gloria snorts.

She starts to fiddle with her phone when another silence falls between them, mentally sifting through other topics for them to safely get through. It never used to be like this—she could prattle on for hours, sharing practically any random thought that came to mind. They’d talk over each other and jump around like excited puppies.

“Are you still battling these days?”

The question slips past her lips before she can stop it. Both of them freeze.

“Sorry, I— you don’t— you can ignore that, I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” says Hop.

Gloria grinds to a halt. Hop sounds calm and unruffled, but she knows better than to take him at face value. Leon’s better at hiding his pain whenever they battle on live television, but Hop—Hop’s always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“I should be going,” says Hop, rising to his feet. He smooths his sheets down and zips up his hoodie, brushing past her to reach the door. With one hand curled around the knob, he turns to her and says, “It was nice seeing you. Hope your Gym Challenge prep goes well.”

“Hop,” says Gloria sharply. Her heart is beating so fast.

Hop does a double take. “Yeah?”

“You’re not just leaving like that, are you?”

“I—yeah. I have to get going if I want to catch the last train,” Hop says, not meeting her eyes.

Gloria’s hands are trembling, so she folds her arms across her chest to hide them. “Bollocks. Your mum said you’re staying here tonight. She’ll have a Miltank if you don’t.”

“Gloria—”

“You don’t want to talk to me, is that it? You’re still mad that I beat you when we were bloody ten years old?”

“What? No! It’s not—”

“I miss you! You cut me off, we don’t talk anymore, and that’s mostly fine, except it makes family functions and weekend trips home awkward as fuck, and— and—”

She is _not_ crying, for fuck’s sake, because Hop would hate it, Gloria hates it, and it’s really not that big of a deal. This isn’t going to be a huge, dramatic showdown. They’re adults now—they can settle this civilly.

“I’m sorry, Gloria,” says Hop in a quiet voice. He’s shaking his head for some reason.

He’s so close for the first time in ages. She could reach out and grab him by the sleeve, make him stay for just a moment longer.

“Take care of yourself,” says Hop without looking back.

-

Hop lets Dubwool out of his Pokeball in the Slumbering Weald.

He hadn’t consciously planned on coming here; his feet just naturally led him down the familiar path to the shrine. In the dark it’s harder to admire its beauty, with its dense green moss and swirling dust motes. But even in the moonlight, this patch of the Weald is gorgeous. He feels at home.

Dubwool trots around happily by the archway, grazing on tufts of grass and sniffing the flowers. Hop would let the others out too, but it’s been years since he last carried a full team with him. Retiring from battles meant that he only kept one or two companion Pokemon on his person. Pokémon Professors hardly needed more than that.

Dubwool comes up to rest his chin on Hop’s knee. He lets out a little sigh when Hop strokes his fluff.

“You miss Stella, don’t you,” says Hop wryly, earning a look from Dubwool. “It’s fine. I know she sneaks you poffins when I’m not looking.”

Dubwool nips his kneecap.

“Ow--hey! I was joking! No need to be violent.”

Dubwool gives him a deeply unimpressed look. He bleats softly, tilting his head.

“I’m not sad,” Hop says. “Really.”

Dubwool nips his knee again.

“Ouch! All right, all right—I’m a little sad, but there’s a legitimate reason for it!”

Said reason had probably left Postwick by now. Gloria couldn’t possibly still be in his childhood bedroom. She’s too busy, too famous to sit around and mope like Hop currently is.

Dubwool nudges his hand, bleating softly again. Hop pats his head resignedly.

“I miss her too,” he says, and he isn’t referring to Stella.

-

When Hop returns home several hours later, Bede, of all people, is sitting at their kitchen table with a plate.

They stare at each other for a long time. No one else is around. His mum and dad are probably in bed, and all their guests had left hours ago. Not even Purrloin is dozing in her bed.

“Er,” says Hop, glancing at the plate Bede’s working on. It’s piled high with everything but meat. “I… think you’re a bit late, mate.”

Bede stares so intensely that Hop starts to fidget. Opal definitely hadn’t perfected Bede’s people skills. Or maybe Bede had just completely ignored all of her efforts. That’s probably more in character for him.

“How are things at the lab,” says Bede out of nowhere.

“Er… fine, I guess,” Hop says slowly, stepping out of his trainers by the door. “Don’t suppose you really care, though.”

Bede takes a sip of his water. “You’re right, I don’t care. I’m just making conversation.”

“Pretty shite at that, to be honest.”

Bede says nothing, lifting a forkful of potatoes to his mouth. If he weren’t so busy chewing, his lip would definitely be curling in disgust.

“Gloria left,” says Bede as Hop walks over to the stairs. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go running after her.”

Hop pauses mid-step, furrowing his brow. What the bloody hell does that mean?

“What I do isn’t up to you,” he says stiffly. “But for what it’s worth, I wasn’t going to anyway.”

“Good.”

Hop clenches his teeth. He turns to cast a withering glare at Bede, but Bede beats him to it.

“Don’t you have a Gym to lead?” asks Hop with a frown.

Bede just peers down his nose at Hop, which sparks a nostalgic irritation in him. He looks like his younger self when he does this. Hop is thrown back to the time he’d lost badly to Bede on the outskirts of Motostoke. ‘ _All this prattle about Gloria and the Champion and whatnot… Do you not have anything of your own to show?’_ Bloody hell, of all the things to remember right now.

“You’ve been awful to Gloria. You must know that,” says Bede in a quiet voice. Hop’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows thickly.

“I don’t know why you cut her off,” Bede continues. “And I don’t really care, to be honest. But it’s clear that you hurt her then, and you continue to do so now.” Bede’s smile is a threat, pointed and sharp. Mawile in human form. “She’s better off without you. Surely even _you_ recognize that.”

Hop’s mum comes in from the back door with Purrloin then, beaming at the two of them. “Oh, look at you both,” she chirps. “Fighting already.”

“The food is delicious, ma’am.”

“You’re too sweet. Help yourself to seconds.” She swats Hop’s shoulder as she passes by, pulling a face when he catches her eye.

“You’re still awake, mum?” asks Hop, annoyed that she’s taking Bede’s side. Why do all adults love uppity wankers like Bede so much? Half his fans are middle-aged women, which is… yeah. Hop has no such luck charming any demographic. Not that he has a trainer card to hand out these days, anyway.

“It’s not my bedtime yet. I’m not that old, dear,” says his mum drily. She pours herself another glass of wine before bidding them both good night.

Bede finishes his food. He stands up to bring his plate and utensils over to the sink, reaching for the sponge and dish soap.

Hop glowers at the poofy back of his head. “You don’t know me, mate,” he says.

“Maybe not,” says Bede, scrubbing his plate with circular motions. He doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder. “But I do know Gloria. And you’re nothing but bad news for her.”

-

Spikemuth is livelier at this time of night. Gloria walks along the main street with dozens of leather-clad partiers and fans on their way to a concert. She sticks out a little in her oversized hoodie and jeans, but no one looks her way twice.

Gloria likes Spikemuth. She always has. There’s laughter inside every pub and raucous cheering around every corner. No one holds back here, and no one ever pays her any attention. It’s a rare gift to have this much freedom in public. As Champion, Gloria’s private life has shrunk down to an unbearable degree; her social media accounts are PR-approved and edited by a team, and her exhibition matches are usually heavily patrolled by League security. Spikemuth makes her feel like the plucky nobody she was before the Champion gig.

What she likes best about Spikemuth is Marnie. Piers is all right too, but Gloria visits for his sister first and foremost.

“Thought you might show up,” says Marnie when she answers the door. Gloria ducks inside behind her, but not without checking over her shoulder first.

“Predictable, aren’t I?” says Gloria. She takes a seat on the couch and removes her hood, patting down stray hairs on her head. Morpeko pops out of nowhere and hops right into Gloria’s lap. He chitters loudly and nuzzles against her stomach, squeaking happily when Gloria pets his back.

“Not exactly,” says Marnie, fixing her with a curious look.

“Then how’d you know I was coming?”

“Bede said so. In the group chat.”

“Oh,” says Gloria, glancing at her phone. She hadn’t looked at it since leaving Postwick a few hours ago.

“He said that Hop was there,” continues Marnie. She disappears into the kitchen for a minute. Gloria listens to her puttering around and cursing whenever she knocks something over. Morpeko shakes his head in secondhand embarrassment.

Marnie comes back with two cups of tea and some biscuits. Gloria recognizes them from her RotoGram post the other day and grins, accepting a Zigzagoon-shaped biscuit and dipping it promptly into her tea.

“So good, Marnie,” says Gloria once she’s taken a bite, humming contentedly. Marnie hides a smile.

“So… what happened?” Marnie prods, taking a sip of her own tea.

Gloria chews for a bit, trying to find the right words. She still isn’t sure what happened herself. “He didn’t want to talk to me,” she says eventually. “I don’t think he thought I would be there at all.”

Marnie nods slowly. “Are you okay?”

Gloria plucks another biscuit from the plate and takes a small bite. “I dunno. Probably.”

“You never did tell me what happened between you two.”

“It’s a long story,” sighs Gloria, lifting her cup to her lips. The tea scalds her tongue a bit, but she keeps drinking it anyway.

“Gimme the short version, then.”

“Well,” says Gloria, tapping her chin. “I crushed my best mate’s dreams when we were ten. And then I… erm… rejected him.”

“You... _what?_ ”

“Rejected him,” repeats Gloria, staring at the floor. Morpeko wriggles a little in her lap, perhaps sensing her discomfort. “I dunno. We were fourteen and I panicked.”

“And you two stopped talkin’ because of that?” asks Marnie, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“Guess so,” says Gloria with a defeated sigh. “I got busy with Champion stuff. And Hop was working with Sonia. He’s a professor now with his own lab and everything.”

There’s a short pause. Marnie drinks more tea and leans back, head thumping lightly against the wall. “So that’s why,” she murmurs.

Gloria sinks down in her seat. It all seems silly when she says it out loud. But it’s true that things have changed between them. Hop’s different, she’s different. They’re locked into career paths, they have adult responsibilities. Gloria’s face is plastered on everything from train ads to takeaway coffee cups. Hop’s research, along with Sonia’s, occasionally appears in the news.

“No one ever told me that becoming Champion meant I had to lose my friends,” she says suddenly.

Marnie slants her a look. “Sittin’ right here, Gloria.”

“We don’t see each other that much these days either,” says Gloria, even as she squeezes Marnie’s hand in apology. She doesn’t bother trying to hide the bitterness in her voice. “You’re busy with the Gym. We only see each other at tournaments and occasionally during the hols. I can’t even stay over tonight--I have an early meeting tomorrow with the new Macro Cosmos chairwoman.”

“D’you really hate it that much?” asks Marnie quietly.

“I--maybe,” says Gloria. There’s a sour taste in her mouth as she admits it. “I mean, no, I don’t. I love it most days. And I know we’re all dealing with things. We’re not kids anymore. I just… get tired, sometimes. And lonely.”

Marnie brushes a few strands of hair out of Gloria’s eyes. She plays with her hair, twirling it around her index finger and releasing it. “I do too,” she says. “But you’re not alone. You know that, right?”

-

“Sloppy,” says Bede while observing their newest Gym trainer. She’s been making amateur mistakes all afternoon. Each time she messes up, she casts a panicked look his way and turns bright red. Bede’s voice is growing hoarse from all the chiding.

“You know they’re going to use Steel and Poison types,” he says tightly. “They do it every year. Correct your move set, change your team order, and try again.”

Marianne, the trainer in question, nods shakily. She exchanges a quick look with her mock battle opponent, Annette, who’s standing on the opposite side of the stage. Bede ignores them both in favor of walking backstage to retrieve his water canteen.

While he’s drinking, Hatterene prods his shoulder with her long arm. Bede knows without looking at her that his moodiness is making her uneasy. But it can’t be helped. He’s been off for days, snapping at his trainers and ignoring repeated calls from Opal. It’s been like this ever since he returned from Postwick.

“Is something bothering you, dear?” asks Annette, joining him with her own canteen. She takes dainty little sips from it. From where Bede’s standing, he can smell the lavender easily.

“No,” says Bede.

Annette sips her tea. She looks over and smiles at the trainers that walk by them on the way to the locker room. When she looks back at Bede, the smile slips off her face.

“Opal asked me to keep an eye on you,” says Annette calmly. “If there’s something bothering you, you can always talk to me about it.”

Hatterene jabs the small of his back when she feels his surge of irritation. Bede manages a stiff smile. “Thank you,” he says.

-

Gloria’s standing outside Ballonlea Gym when Bede finishes for the day.

She spots him immediately. “Bede!” she calls, waving. “You hungry?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Wyndon?” says Bede, walking over to her.

“Not until tomorrow. I’ve got some free time before I have to go, so I thought I’d come see you. You haven’t eaten yet, right?”

Bede’s eyes are drawn to what she’s wearing: a frost-white dress and wedges with tiny blue flowers on them. Her hair is done up, soft pink locks gathered into a romantic tuck at the nape of her neck. She’s even wearing lip gloss. It reflects some of the tiny lights floating around them when she smiles.

“Bede?” asks Gloria, waving a hand at his face.

Bede takes a step back, irritated for some reason. He can feel a migraine coming on. “I’m listening,” he says.

“‘Course you were,” says Gloria, raising an eyebrow. “Where are we headed, then?”

Bede looks away. “...to dinner,” he manages. He has no idea where.

They end up at their usual spot, Glimwood Café. In her new shoes, Gloria wobbles up the wooden steps that wind around the trunk of an ancient oak tree. Bede sighs and steadies her with a gentle hand when she tips backwards.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks her once they’re seated.

Gloria blinks. “Occasion?”

Bede keeps his eyes on the menu. “Your outfit.”

“Ah.” Gloria glances down at her dress. She smooths the fabric over her legs self-consciously. “Just felt like it. I never get to pick my own outfits anymore.”

Bede’s still wearing his Gym uniform himself. He’d forgotten a change of clothes in his haste to arrive on time today.

Perhaps that was why he’d spent the whole day in a sour mood. Rushing in the morning always left him feeling irritated with himself and his lack of self-discipline. Opal of course was always punctual and expected him to be too, but it was Rose who upheld a strict policy on tardiness. Rose _despised_ tardiness. Once, he’d even left the restaurant early when Bede rushed in ten minutes late. Bede spent an hour waiting by himself until one of the waiters finally took pity on him. He still remembers slinking out of the restaurant numb with shame.

“You look nice,” says Bede without thinking.

Gloria’s staring at him strangely when he finally looks up from the menu.

“What?” he asks, frowning.

“Did you just... compliment me?”

Bede closes the menu with a sigh. “I’m ready to order if you are,” he says.

“Hey, don’t change the subject,” says Gloria while Bede raises a hand to call over the waiter. “You said I look nice.”

“And?”

“You never say things like that,” says Gloria slowly, carefully enunciating each word. She’s still staring at him like he’s sprouted horns.

“I’ll have the Maranga salad,” says Bede to their waiter.

Gloria hurries to pick something before handing over their menus. Bede drinks his water and rolls his eyes when she keeps staring at him.

“It’s just an observation,” he says. “You don’t need to make it weird.”

“O...kay.”

They chat about their day for a little bit, Gloria laughing at Bede’s annoyed face when he recalls the mock battles from earlier. She neatly dodges any attempts Bede makes to ask about her weekend, instead talking at length about her morning meetings with Oleana and the new executives at Macro Cosmos. _Insufferable pricks, the lot of them,_ she mutters, and Bede has to smirk at that.

“You know you don’t owe him anything, right?” says Bede once they’ve both finished eating.

Gloria dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “Who?”

“Hop.”

Gloria’s gaze drops to the table. “Bede, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why?”

Flustered, Gloria fires back, “Why do you want to know so badly?”

Defensive and closed off, like always. Bede’s head throbs with the beginnings of a migraine, perhaps the same one he’d felt earlier. Talking to Gloria is an object lesson in patience most of the time, but today she’s being especially stubborn. Bede has his limits.

“Because I’m in love with you, you idiot,” Bede snaps.

-

The walk back to his flat is a long one.

Gloria had left early to catch a Flying Taxi to Wyndon. “Have to be there bright and early,” she’d said, glancing at her wristwatch.

Hatterene and Sylveon pop out of their Pokeballs once Bede arrives home. His flat is small and clean, the size of a postage stamp, and completely devoid of any photographs. He has nothing to frame, anyway.

Bede takes a quick shower and then sets the tea kettle to boil on the stove, mind blissfully empty.

Hatterene sits beside him at the table while he drinks his tea.

“I don’t have anyone, do I,” says Bede softly, stroking the brim of Hatterene’s hat. She makes a quiet, sympathetic noise that Sylveon echoes from the bed.

‘ _Why did I have the misfortune of being born in the same time period as you...?_ ’ he’d asked Gloria the last time they’d battled. The look on her face had been priceless.

They’re… friends. Bede has no idea when or how it started. Their first meetings had been embarrassingly awkward. He’d press-ganged her into random battles and then taken each loss poorly. Rose chastised him for his poor sportsmanship, and the other Gym Challengers kept their distance from the intense, arrogant boy endorsed by the Chairman.

He supposes they became friends after Gloria beat him in the Championship tournament. On live television, no less. Bede remembers the shocked look on her face, the roar of the crowd after he’d lost, and then how small her hand had felt in his when they shook hands.

“I was hoping you’d show up,” she’d said, grinning at him.

That grin made him realize just how strong his feelings had become. Everything went downhill from there.


	2. Chapter 2

Next month, preparations for the new Gym Challenge start in earnest.

Gloria’s never at her best when they happen. She’s better suited to battling, honestly, or else solving problems with the toss of a Pokeball. But ever since that Darkest Day fiasco with Chairman Rose, the League has been extra careful in its relations with Macro Cosmos. They rely more heavily on the Champion now, shepherding her into meetings with League staff, or having her sit down for lengthy interviews with the press. Gloria understands the need for precaution just fine; it’s the _extra work_ part that doesn’t sit right with her.

Leon never had to put up with fifty bloody planning committee meetings in one day. Gloria has no clue how she’s supposed to keep up her training regimen with all these sodding conference calls. But somehow, year after year, she does. She has to.

This year, she also starts planning a one-way trip to Alola as a coping mechanism.

“I’ll create a fake identity, retire from competitive battling, and drink tons of tapu cocoa for the rest of my days,” Gloria tells Marnie one day over the phone. “Oh, and you and Morpeko are free to come with.”

“Uh,” says Marnie. “When’s the last time you took a break?”

And that’s how Gloria ends up camping in the Wild Area the next day.

As usual, Marnie’s absolutely right. Gloria’s Pokemon are thrilled to be out of their Pokeballs. Being outside for a proper break helps with her own stress, too; she feels lighter already. 

“Sorry it took so long to get out here,” she says, patting Charizard’s snout. Charizard wags his tail and takes a swipe at the PokeToy she’s swishing around. The others bounce around in the sunshine, chirruping and flapping and rolling, as happy as she’s ever seen them.

Gloria relaxes with her team for roughly an hour. Then, when she’s in the middle of cleaning up, Rotom zips out of her bag with an incoming call.

Gloria takes one look at the caller ID and blanches. It’s Bede.

They haven’t spoken in two weeks. This isn’t unusual; the months before the Gym Challenge are always busy for them. But given the way they’d ended dinner the other night, Gloria has no illusions about why they aren’t talking.

She accepts the call. “H’lo, Bede.”

“Oh,” says Bede, eyes widening. It looks like he’s standing outside of Ballonlea Gym with Hatterene and a few trainers. Like Gloria and her team, they’re probably taking a much needed lunch break.

Bede takes a second to compose himself. “Are you busy?”

“We’re just having lunch,” Gloria says, trying to keep her hand steady. She tilts the camera so that Charizard and Dragapult come into view. Dragapult promptly vanishes into thin air, shy as ever, but Charizard flashes a toothy grin at the camera. Charizard has always liked Bede.

“So are we,” says Bede.

“Nice.”

There’s a terrible lull.

“Well,” says Gloria, clearing her throat. This is so, so awkward. “Sorry, but I think I—”

“Have lunch with me tomorrow,” Bede interrupts. The trainers behind him stop chatting for a moment to glance his way. Bede ignores them, but not without his ears turning pink.

“I…” She can’t think of a single excuse not to. “...um, sure.”

Relief flickers across Bede’s face. “Great.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll message you later about the location.”

He hangs up before she can reply.

Gloria’s Pokemon watch her curiously as she pockets her phone.

“Weird, right?” she asks them, picking up the PokeToy again and twirling it between her fingers. Then it hits her that she’s just agreed to have lunch with Bede tomorrow.

Gloria drops her head into her hands and groans. God, this is _terrible_. It’d been bad enough to go through this with Hop at fourteen. Doing this now with Bede feels like the universe is purposely taking the mickey out of her.

Inteleon snickers, tail flicking against her leg.

Gloria flings a Tympole ball at him. “No more curry for you,” she grumbles.

-

Sonia’s latest message stays open on Hop’s desktop while he drinks his third coffee of the day. He’s been staring at it for ten minutes now, unsure of how to take it.

 **Sonia:** Hop!! Hope you’re well  
**Sonia:** Just wanted to let you know that my friend Bianca is in town  
**Sonia:** She’s here on a work trip for Prof. Juniper from Unova (remember her??)  
**Sonia:** I told her a bit about you and she says she’d like to meet you!  
**Sonia:** She’ll be in Wyndon for sightseeing this Saturday, so I thought you two could go together  
**Sonia:** Let me know if you’re interested :)  
**Sonia:** Oh, and Maggie says hi!

Sonia had sent a link to her friend’s RotoGram profile as well. Curiosity piqued, Hop clicks on it, intending to just take a quick peek. He finds photos of a stern-looking Herdier and a cute blond with a sunny smile. There are plenty of other Pokémon and people featured in her posts too, like a scowling bloke with glasses and a cheery woman in a lab coat. The woman is probably Professor Juniper, but Hop has no memory of ever meeting her.

Instead of responding to Sonia right away, Hop spends the rest of his lunch break staring at RotoGram. He scrolls until he hits the bottom of his feed, eyes glazing over as he likes photos from people he barely talks to anymore. Sonia’s posted some selfies of her and Maggie from the tournament two weeks ago, so he likes those too.

He somehow ends up on Gloria’s profile next.

Her most recent post is a picture of the pitch at Wyndon Stadium. Inteleon and Charizard sit side by side with a small pile of berries between them. There’s no text, but Gloria (or someone on her PR team, perhaps) included a string of heart emojis and a link to the official tournament website.

The post after that features Piers and Marnie. The two of them look fairly pale and grim in real life, but on camera the effect is doubled. Marnie at least makes an effort by holding up a half-hearted peace sign. Hop’s amused to see that her camera-ready smile has improved over the years. Piers, on the other hand…

The posts after that barely show any pics of Gloria herself. Strange that the most famous person in all of Galar rarely, if ever, posts any selfies. Most of Gloria’s pictures feature her team, her friends, or random scenery from her travels.

The one person that doesn’t show up at all is Bede.

That’s not to say that Hop doesn’t catch sight of him every now and then. He’s cut off in a few recent pictures, his candy-floss uniform sleeve just visible at the edge of the frame. Sometimes it’s just Bede’s Hatterene there without him, smiling serenely next to Gloria’s Inteleon. For the most part, though, Bede’s absent from Gloria’s carefully curated RotoGram page.

“Whatcha doin’, sir?”

Hop scrambles to hide his phone. Stella stands by his desk with a stack of books in her arms. He hadn’t heard her come in at all.

“Nothing, nothing,” says Hop, jamming his phone back into his pocket.

Stella’s lips twitch. “Right. These are for you, then,” she says, placing the stack on his desk. “Need anything else before I head out for lunch?”

Hop shakes his head. He’s too mortified to look her in the eyes right now. The way she bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling says it all: she’d seen him looking at Gloria’s posts, and now she’s seen how panicked he is about it. Prime blackmail material right there.

“You know,” says Stella, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, “Professor Sonia told me that you and Gloria used to be close.”

“Uh huh,” says Hop, rubbing his temples. He’s really stepped in it now.

“Do you still see her sometimes? I know she’s busy with Champion stuff, but--”

“Sorry, weren’t you heading out?” Hop interrupts.

Stella opens her mouth to say something else, but then seems to decide against it. “Yeah,” she says, deflating a little. “I’ll see you later, sir.”

-

It isn’t until half past midnight that Hop remembers to send Sonia a reply.

_Sure, I’m free Saturday. Cheers, Sonia. Looking forward to meeting her._

-

“You, er, look nice,” says Gloria.

Bede glances down at his shirt impassively. “This is old,” he says. “You’ve seen me wear it many times.”

He really isn’t going to make this easy for her, is he.

“Right. Sorry about that,” says Gloria. She looks up and down the crowded market street for a place to have lunch. Bede’s in the mood for some Kantonian food, but none of the usual vendors seem to be open. “If you’re craving onigiri, maybe we can try one of the restaurants behind the Gym.”

Bede starts walking in that direction at once.

Their starstruck waiter seats the two of them outside on the patio. The view of the canyon is beautiful from up here, and the air is clean and cool. Gloria has no complaints, but Bede looks distinctly uncomfortable when they sit down shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Do you know what you want?” Gloria asks, paging through the menu. There are so many options that it’s hard to pick just one.

Bede stares moodily at the sky, lost in thought.

Gloria nudges him. “Bede?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” says Bede without looking at her. He says it calmly, without heat, but it still makes Gloria uneasy.

“Why?” she asks.

“You know why.”

Right to the point, then. Bede never did like to waste time with small talk. He’s the complete opposite of Hop in that regard.

Gloria bites her lip. _Best not to think about Hop right now._ Her head doesn’t need to be any messier than it already is.

“Bede,” she says. “I’m sor--”

“Don’t apologise,” Bede says sharply. “I know you don’t mean it, and I don’t want your pity.”

Gloria bites back her reply as their waiter returns to take their order. She quickly picks something at random for them both, sending their waiter on his way with a strained smile.

“What _do_ you want, then?” Gloria asks once they’re alone again.

Bede stares at her levelly, not a hair out of place. “A date.”

“A date,” echoes Gloria.

Bede nods. “Just once,” he says. “And if you hate it, we never have to do it again.”

Gloria falls silent, considering Bede’s offer.

What does she have to lose? (A lot.) Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just this once.

Like practically everyone else in Galar, Gloria knows how wildly popular Bede is. She’s seen the fanart and comments online, and she knows very well who ranks second in the Gym Leader popularity polls (spoiler: it’s Bede). 

Bede’s _beautiful._ It’s not at all hyperbolic to admit this; to most of Galar, this is a factual statement, just like water is wet and Leon is awful with directions. Bede’s face belongs on magazine covers, on silver screens and ginormous billboards, and his poise on the pitch could work just as well on the catwalk.

But Gym Leader Bede is different from real Bede, and it’s not Gym Leader Bede that’s asking her out on a date right now.

“Okay,” says Gloria.

Bede’s eyes widen. “You… you will?”

She nods, and Bede’s entire face lights up with happiness. Gloria finds it hard to tear her eyes away.

“Does this count?” she jokes, trying to diffuse the tension.

“...What?”

“I mean, is this our date?” she clarifies, watching as their waiter brings out their food.

Bede shoots her an unamused look. Ah, there it is. They’re back in familiar territory now.

“Obviously not,” he says. “You’re not even dressed properly.”

“Hey!”

He’s not wrong. Gloria’s wearing baggy clothes and giant sunglasses to keep from being spotted in public. Bede’s tucked his hair beneath a mint-colored newsboy cap and pulled the brim down low over his eyes. The more dedicated fans are likely to recognize them anyway, but so far they’ve been lucky enough to stay out of view.

“Where would you like to go?” Gloria asks. She tries to think of an appropriate outfit. Bede seemed to like the dress she’d worn last time. If she wore it again, would it be awkward?

“I’ll meet you in Wyndon,” says Bede. It’s remarkable how composed his voice is, but when Gloria glances at his hands, she notices that they’re trembling. “Does this Saturday work for you?”

“I’m free in the evening,” says Gloria, finally digging into her food. It’s surprisingly good. She hums happily while eating.

In the corner of her eye, Gloria sees Bede nod to himself. “Saturday evening it is.”

-

Weekends are usually quiet and unremarkable for Bede. He has a routine: Rise at six for a quick jog through Glimwood Tangle, then return to shower and have a light breakfast. After that, it’s off to the Gym for some training. Since there aren’t any other trainers around on the weekend, Bede just runs drills with his team until they’re all exhausted. Then it’s back to his flat for lunch and some reading. Lately he’s been thinking of ways to incorporate more status moves into his team’s repertoire, and there are several guides that detail how to effectively do this.

Today he gets through his normal routine until lunch. After lunch, however, he sits on his bed and stares hopelessly into his closet.

“What are you supposed to wear on a date?” he asks Mawile, who’s watching him from her perch on the sofa. Mawile tilts her head, confused.

Right. Mawile’s a Pokémon, and she can’t give Bede sartorial advice.

There’s no one he talks to on a normal basis who could, for that matter. He supposes that this is what mothers or fathers are necessary for, along with things like affection and pep talks and shelter. But Bede’s gone without parental guidance for so long that it doesn’t sting to wonder what it would have been like.

According to Rose, his mother had been beautiful. Bede had inherited her bone structure and mannerisms. He’d gotten his eyes and nose from his father, and possibly his temper as well.

Gloria doesn’t even know what her father looks like. “Mum won’t tell me,” she’d admitted to Bede and Marnie once over drinks. “She won’t let me look for him, either. Says he’d just use me for clout.”

Marnie has the inverse problem, what with her mother vanishing when she and Piers were still small.

What a funny little group of misfits they are.

Bede glances at his phone, a thought occurring to him. Marnie would know what to wear. Wouldn’t she?

 **Bede:** I have a question.  
**Marnie:** ?  
**Marnie:** What  
**Bede:** You can’t laugh.  
**Marnie:** ……..  
**Marnie:** Is this about your date?  
**Bede:** How did you know?  
**Marnie:** Gloria’s my friend too, you know

Bede huffs, raking a hand through his hair. Well, he should have seen that coming. Gloria and Marnie share practically everything with each other.

 **Bede:** What should I wear  
**Marnie:** …….  
**Bede:** …….  
**Marnie:** Oh my god lol   
**Bede:** Marnie  
**Bede:** Do not  
**Marnie:** Sorry  
**Marnie:** Im not laughing, promise

She definitely is.

 **Marnie:** Umm well  
**Marnie:** Pink’s your thing right?  
**Marnie:** Just wear that  
**Marnie:** Gloria thinks you look good in pink  
**Bede:** She does?  
**Marnie:** Yeah  
**Marnie:** But don’t go too overboard  
**Marnie:** Like, dont wear a three piece suit or anything  
**Marnie:** you weren’t gonna to do that, were you??

Bede glances at the suit lying on his bed. He quickly stuffs it back in his closet.

 **Bede:** No .  
**Marnie:** Ok good  
**Marnie:** Tbh I think anything is fine  
**Marnie:** don’t worry and just be yourself  
**Marnie:** it’s just Gloria  
**Bede:** Yes, that’s why I’m worried  
**Marnie:** Aww

He ends up picking an outfit he’s worn before to formal events: a light-pink Oxford shirt and white trousers. Opal had been the one to originally choose it for him. He hasn’t got any other solid options at the moment, so it will have to do.

Bede arrives fifteen minutes early to the restaurant. His nerves make him jump at sudden noises and trip on a crack in the sidewalk. When the hostess by the front desk smiles at him and asks if he wants to be seated early, Bede barely manages to croak out a reply.

“I’ll, er, wait. Outside,” he says to her befuddled expression.

At ten minutes past seven, Bede starts to tap his foot in worry. She _is_ coming, isn’t she? She wouldn’t stand him up. Right?

For one horrible second, Bede recalls being eight years old and waiting alone in that restaurant back in Hulbury. He remembers wiping away tears in secret, telling himself that Rose would be there in five minutes, in ten, in twenty.

“Bede!”

Gloria sprints up the sidewalk to him, jolting him out of his memories.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she says, panting hard. “I took the tube the wrong way like an idiot, so I had to hop in the closest taxi and come straight here. It happens every bloody time, I swear--”

Bede would have made a snarky comment about all Champions being lousy with directions, but he’s too busy trying to reign his emotions in. His shoulders sag with relief.

Gloria peers up at him curiously. “Are you all right?” she asks.

Her hair’s the same color for once. It cascades down her back in silky black waves, complementing the delicate lilac on her eyelids and the shiny pink on her lips. The floral-print dress must be new, though, because he’s never seen it before.

He recognizes the pendant she’s wearing immediately. It’s the one he gave to her three years ago as a birthday gift.

Bede tugs on his collar, clearing his throat loudly. Why does it ache to see her like this?

“Bede...? Oh no, are you okay?”

Gloria’s watching his face closely. Stunned, Bede rapidly blinks away the moisture in his eyes and shakes his head. The lump in his throat doesn’t go away, though, and neither does the heavy thumping of his heart. This is so embarrassing.

“You... you look nice,” he manages.

Gloria's lips part in surprise. Then she smiles and pats him fondly on the arm.

“You too,” she says. “Pink really suits you.”

-

It turns out that going on a date with Gloria is exactly like any other time they’ve hung out. Bede doesn’t know what to make of this. Mostly he’s relieved, because it eases the burden off of him to flirt or ask stilted questions about hobbies.

“Never agree to train with Bea if you can help it,” Gloria says, rolling her shoulder and wincing at the crack it makes. “I’m so sore today that it hurts to even lift my fork.”

“Allister’s not much better. He lets his team do whatever they please, so they mostly just float around pranking Gym trainers.”

“That sounds quite fun, actually.”

“You _would_ think that.”

“Hey now,” says Gloria, mock outraged. “I’m sure it’s _loads_ better than training with you.”

“It’s not my fault you’ve no clue how to work with Fairy types.”

“Well, I’m not pink enough for Opal, that’s for sure.”

“No one is,” says Bede with a shrug. Gloria laughs, and Bede can’t help but smile into his drink.

After they’ve both finished their entrées and moved on to dessert, Gloria leans forward with a determined look on her face.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

Gloria rolls her eyes, smiling. Then her expression grows serious as she asks, “How did you know?”

“Know what?” asks Bede.

Gloria’s cheeks turn pink. “That you were in love with me.”

Perhaps it’s the wine that’s making him feel so… loose. He’s not used to feeling this way, not even after winning a particularly tough battle. Or maybe it’s just that he’s on a date with his best friend and longtime crush. Anyone would feel punch-drunk in this situation.

“I think about you,” he says quietly. “A lot.”

Gloria nods slowly. “I think about curry a lot, but I wouldn’t say I’m in love with it. ...wait, maybe I am. Am I?”

“Gloria,” sighs Bede.

“Right, sorry. Go on.”

“I’ve known since I was ten,” Bede continues. Gloria’s not looking at him directly anymore. She’s staring at a fixed point just over his shoulder, lips pursed in thought.

“Are you…” she says, trailing off. Bede glances over his shoulder to see what she’s looking at, but there’s nothing there.

“Am I what?” Bede prods.

“Oh. Erm, are you sure it’s not… I don’t know, love for a sister?”

Bede blinks slowly. Love for a sister? “You’re not my sister,” he says.

“Well, yeah.”

“Then why would you ask that?”

“I’m just trying to understand where you’re coming from,” says Gloria, finally meeting his eyes again. “You’re so sure of yourself.”

“You don’t believe me?” asks Bede, leg bouncing underneath the table. Opal used to hate it when he did this. For a while, she’d even trained him out of it. But old habits die hard, and right now he’s too nervous to remember his lessons.

“I do. Really,” says Gloria quickly. “I’m just not sure about my own feelings.”

The way she frowns in confusion strikes Bede as cute, for some reason. Very cute. Or maybe it’s just that he finds everything about her to be cute.

Acting on impulse, Bede leans forward to kiss her on the cheek.

When he pulls back, Gloria’s gaping at him with her mouth open.

“...thanks?” she says, touching the spot where he’d kissed her. “Wait, but how does that answer my--”

“Should we get going?” Bede asks, trying to hold himself together. Truth be told, he’s already anxious to head somewhere more private, but only if Gloria is equally interested.

“Oh. Uh, sure,” says Gloria, gathering her purse and jacket.

-

The Galar Hurricane is only a ten-minute walk from the restaurant. It’s a bit cliché as far as date spots go, but Gloria seems excited nonetheless. 

Bede holds Gloria’s hand as she steps into their car first. The attendant shuts the door after he gets in as well and waves, bidding them a nice night with a smile. And then they’re moving, ascending along with dozens of couples in other cars. An impressive view unfolds before them.

“I’ve been here so many times for work, but I’ve never once taken this thing,” says Gloria quietly, leaning against the glass.

“It’s a tourist trap,” offers Bede.

Gloria snorts. “How romantic.”

They grin at each other, giddy and flushed from the wine they’d consumed at dinner.

It doesn’t take long to reach the top. The city looks even better from here, dazzling them with a panoramic view of the sprawling life below. They can see Leon’s Battle Tower, as well as the shining beacon that is Wyndon Stadium. Then there are the tiny golden lights of the many hotels and shops.

“The Chairman rode this with me once,” says Bede suddenly.

Gloria glances at him.

“I was seven, I think. We came to Wyndon to finalise my adoption papers. Hatenna was there too.”

Rose held his hand the entire time they rode it. Hatenna had sat in his lap and bounced happily as they rose higher and higher into the sky.

Bede remembers feeling so much love for both of them at that moment. His heart had been full to bursting. _This is what family feels like,_ he’d thought.

Bede jerks his head up when he feels Gloria slide into the spot next to him.

She rests her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry,” she says softly.

Bede’s eyes fall to her mouth.

He moves on instinct, kissing her before he can lose his nerve. Gloria makes a soft noise of surprise against his lips. Her hand leaps to his wrist, but she doesn’t yank away or shove him back. After a minute or so, she melts into it, eyelids fluttering shut.

It’s a thousand times better than he’d ever imagined. Gloria’s lips are petal-soft under his, and she smells wonderful and sweet. Bede cradles the back of her head and deepens their kiss, terrified of making the wrong move, of being too rough and hurting her.

Gloria’s not made of glass, though. Gradually she kisses back with feeling, smiling when she hears his shaky sigh.

They stop too soon, in Bede’s opinion, but they both need air. When Bede leans back, he sees that Gloria’s lipstick is smudged and her pupils are blown wide and dark. The air inside their car is abruptly stifling. The sight of her alone is enough to make his pants feel uncomfortably tight.

Bloody Gloria. How is he supposed to move on from her if this doesn’t work out?

“D’you want to,” says Bede, catching his breath. They’re already starting to descend from the top. Their tickets allow them another loop around the wheel, but they’re also free to get off once they reach the platform.

Gloria isn’t looking at him. She seems torn, biting her lip and nervously brushing the hair out of her eyes.

“I’m staying at the Rose of the Rondalands,” she says.

-

They make it back to Gloria’s suite in less than ten minutes.

Mere seconds after the door closes behind them, Bede pulls her close and covers her mouth with his again. He kisses her deeply and without pretense, inhibitions thrown to the wind.

“Should we... move... to the bed?” Gloria manages to say in between kisses.

Bede nods and starts to shed his shirt and jacket, making an impatient noise when his nail snags on one of his buttons. Gloria takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and watches him. It feels surreal to be doing this right now, but she’s finding it hard to stop.

“Is this okay?” Bede asks, reaching for her again. He rests his forehead against hers and exhales a shaky breath.

Gloria pecks him on the cheek, much like he did earlier. “It’s very okay.”

“Would you... “ Bede starts. He fiddles with the zipper to her jacket. “Can I take this off?”

Gloria nods, laughing as Bede kisses her again.

The cool air feels lovely on her overheated skin. Bede drops a kiss on her bare shoulder and runs his fingers along the straps of her dress.

“Ah. Bede, wait.”

Bede stops. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no. It’s not that.”

Relief washes over his face. “What is it, then? Am I doing something wrong?”

“You’re fine, Bede.” Gloria strokes the side of his face. Bede leans into it, lips grazing against the center of her palm. Her skin tingles where he kisses it. “I just… um, have you done this before?”

Bede keeps Gloria’s hand pressed against his mouth. “You’re asking if I’m a virgin?” he murmurs.

“Yeah.”

Bede hesitates.

“Yes,” he eventually says. “Are you?”

“No,” says Gloria.

Bede doesn’t seem surprised. He leans in for yet another kiss, letting this one linger.

“Are _you_ okay with this?” Gloria asks, holding herself up with her elbow.

“Of course I am,” Bede sighs, sounding slightly cross. Gloria bites her tongue to keep from laughing. Of course Bede would be fussy even in bed.

It doesn’t take long for them to resume where they’d left off, this time with Bede on top and Gloria flat on her back beneath him. Bede shudders when Gloria slips her hands beneath his shirt and smooths them over his skin. God, he’s so _warm._

Bede’s eyes go very round as Gloria pulls down the straps to her dress. She sits up and unfastens the catch to her bra next, smiling at the blush on Bede’s face. Bede can’t tear his eyes away from her breasts as they spill out of her top.

“You okay?” asks Gloria with a grin.

Bede shuts his eyes. “No,” he says.

“Shall we stop, then?”

“Gloria,” growls Bede, reaching for her and kissing along the side of her jaw. “That’s about the last thing I want to do right now.”

Bede takes the opportunity to slip a hand under the waistband of her panties. Gloria gasps at the spark of pleasure this elicits, biting her lip as he purposely brushes a finger over her clit.

“You’re wet,” says Bede, smirking against her lips as they kiss. He dips a finger inside her and spreads her juices over her folds, gently stroking until she’s curling against him and shivering helplessly.

“How is it?” Bede asks. He’s gentle but firm, rubbing small circles directly onto her clit, making her hips buck and thighs clench together.

“G-good,” Gloria manages. She can hardly think right now. Every time she opens her eyes again and sees Bede’s face, a fresh jolt of pleasure goes straight to her core, making her clutch Bede’s arm tightly. She can’t believe that it’s _Bede_ making her feel this way. Blunt, competitive, endearing Bede, her friend of ten years and longtime rival.

Bede slips two fingers inside her and rubs them against her walls. Gloria buries her face into his neck and moans, shaking all over.

“B-Bede,” she gasps.

“Mm?”

“I’m close,” she says. “I’m so—”

Bede kisses her cheek and rubs the sides of her clit even faster, pushing her over the edge with a loud moan. Gloria comes hard, harder than she ever has on her own, riding out her orgasm against Bede’s chest. Bede keeps stroking her until the last of her shivers have finished.

“Are you all right?” Bede asks, lips resting against her forehead. His hand comes to rest on the swell of her hip. Gloria laughs into his chest.

“Thank you,” she says. She tilts her head back far enough so that she can peck Bede on the lips. Bede’s eyes are so full of love and sadness when she leans back. “Now it’s your turn.”

Gloria slips a hand between their bodies, reaching for the noticeable bulge in Bede’s pants. Bede bites his lip, eyelids drooping as Gloria cups him, her thumb rubbing small circles against his shaft. He lets out a shaky sigh as Gloria undoes his fly and reaches inside, hips jerking as her fingers brush against the sensitive head.

“Like this?” asks Gloria.

“Yes,” breathes Bede, shuddering. Gloria rubs a thumb over the leaking tip, riveted by the way Bede’s face slackens with pleasure.

Soon she’s wrapping her fingers around his cock and pumping him in earnest, aided by the slickness of Bede’s precum. Bede’s eyebrows draw together as he concentrates hard on the feeling. His hands clutch Gloria’s shoulders tightly, tensing each time her fingers pass over the tip of his cock.

It’s cute to see Bede like this. His cheeks bloom with color, and he makes such needy sounds. Before tonight, Gloria never thought she would hear Bede like this. Now that she has, it’s hard to imagine going without it.

When Bede’s breath hitches and his hips begin to shake against her, Gloria speeds up, covering his mouth with hers to swallow his moans.

“Gloria—” Bede warns. Then he’s coming with a choked sound, seed spilling over Gloria’s knuckles and dripping onto the sheets. Gloria keeps stroking until he’s entirely spent, thighs still clenching from the intensity.

Sated and sleepy, Bede brings Gloria’s hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. They stay quiet for a moment, chests rising and falling with exertion, simply listening to each other’s breathing.

Gloria’s eyelids are just starting to droop when Bede asks, “Who was it?”

“Hm?”

“Your first time,” Bede clarifies.

“Oh.” Would it really be fine to tell him? She’s not ashamed of it, but maybe Bede wouldn’t want to hear. Maybe it would drive a wedge between them.

“I won’t be mad,” Bede says. “As long as it’s not Hop.”

That gets a laugh out of her. “It wasn’t Hop.”

Bede sighs in relief. “Wait,” he says. “Then who?”

“Do you really need to know?”

“No, but I _want_ to know,” says Bede without a hint of shame. “Was it Marnie?”

Gloria grins, shaking her head. “Can I tell her you said that?”

“Go ahead,” says Bede dismissively. “Piers?”

“Nope.”

“Leon?”

“Hop would have killed me,” says Gloria. Not to mention Sonia. “So no.”

Bede’s concentrating hard on his list. “Don’t tell me it was Raihan,” he says.

Gloria’s silence speaks volumes.

Bede shoots her a disgusted look.

“What?” says Gloria defensively. “I was plastered, and he was… there!”

Bede’s brow furrows as he considers this. “So that’s why he kept asking about you,” he murmurs, lacing their fingers together.

“Come again?”

“At the after party,” Bede explains. “He kept pestering me about you. I finally had to tell him to piss off.”

“Ah. Yeah, he came by my room to whinge on about how rude you were.”

“He came to your room? Alone?” Bede asks indignantly.

“Yes, and we shagged all night long.”

Bede scowls. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious.”

“I’m always serious,” Gloria says. She pats Bede’s cheek affectionately.

“So you have feelings for him?”

“I love him with all of my heart—”

Bede kisses her just to shut her up, and Gloria relents, giggling into his mouth.

-

As promised, Hop meets Sonia’s friend for lunch and sightseeing on Saturday.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you!” Bianca says in her flat Unovan accent. She shakes Hop’s hand with so much enthusiasm that his knuckles ache when she lets go.

“Likewise,” says Hop, trying to smile back convincingly. “Sonia mentioned that you’ve known each other for a while.”

Bianca beams, nodding emphatically. “We met at a conference in Castelia City,” she says. “She came to present her findings on the two Heroes of Galar. It really shook up the whole field, y’know! Some of the researchers present weren’t convinced, but _I_ was. I thought she was amazing.”

Hop vividly remembers what some of the press said about Sonia’s theory when it first came out. He’ll never forget those barmy sword and shield gits either.

“You and your friend are the ones mentioned in her book, aren’t you?” asks Bianca.

“Oh. Er, yeah.” He’d nearly forgotten about that.

Bianca practically has stars in her eyes. “That’s so cool…”

“It isn’t really, but thanks,” Hop says, glancing around nervously. It’s crowded as ever on a Saturday afternoon in downtown Wyndon, but he’s still worried that they’re drawing too much attention. Bianca’s voice definitely carries.

Eventually the two of them set off down the main street together, intermittently taking in the sights. Hop does his best to play tour guide. Fortunately, Bianca is a surpassingly laidback tourist. She never seems to stop smiling all the while, and the only time she stops for photos is when they reach Wyndon Stadium.

Over lunch, Hop learns that she’s working closely with Professor Juniper in Nuvema Town, and that she’d participated in the Unovan version of the Gym Challenge.

“I wasn’t very good,” Bianca admits with an easy laugh. “But I definitely don’t regret it. I doubt I ever would have left Nuvema Town if it weren’t for Pokemon.”

“I feel the same way,” says Hop.

“Ah, that’s right! Sonia mentioned that you did the Gym Challenge years ago,” says Bianca. “She said you’re a fantastic trainer, too.”

“She’s exaggerating a bit,” laughs Hop. “But thank you.”

He’s just starting to enjoy himself when he hears the whispered conversation behind them.

“...isn’t that Leon’s little brother?”

“What? No way. What’s he doing over in Wyndon? I thought he quit competitive battling.”

“I heard that he’s a professor now. Got his own lab and everything. Good thinking, yeah? He never stood a chance against Gloria.”

Bianca’s eyes widen. She turns back to see who’s speaking, but Hop grimaces and shakes his head.

“He never stood a chance against his brother, either,” continues one of them. “Must’ve been humiliating to lose so badly in front of millions of people.”

“Guess that’s why he became a researcher, eh? Better to leave the battling to the actual pros.”

Hop’s entire face feels numb. He doesn’t know how to unhear what he’s just heard. Somehow his legs keep moving, but his thoughts are hopelessly scattered.

Bianca grabs his wrist. “Come on,” she says.

They walk the long path down to the river in silence. Bianca let go of his hand a while back, but Hop still feels the sensation of her fingers around his wrist.

“...bunch of assholes,” Bianca grumbles. “Don’t listen to a word they say, okay?”

Hop tries to say something funny and dismissive, just to play it off, but nothing comes out.

Bianca leans against the railing and studies him quietly. Without the manic grin on her face, she looks like an entirely different person.

“Are they always like that?” Bianca asks.

“...Galarians, you mean?”

Bianca laughs, and Hop sees a flash of the chipper girl he’d met earlier. “No, I meant the fans.”

“Sometimes,” says Hop. “It’s why I never read the comments online. Better not to subject myself to that kind of torture.”

Bianca nods emphatically. “They’re not real fans, anyway. They’re just bullies.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Do you always have to deal with their rude comments in public?”

“Most days I walk around with my earphones in, so I wouldn’t know.”

A passing ferryboat blares its horn and they both turn their heads to watch. Wingulls fly in lazy circles around it, their tiny white bodies reflected on the waves. Hop sighs, remembering a time he used to come out here for midday walks. Nowadays, he just stays put at the lab.

Bianca turns to him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Go for it.”

“Why stay? You could go anywhere. You could even come to Unova if you’d like. I bet Professor Juniper would be thrilled to meet you.”

Hop smiles in spite of himself. “That sounds quite nice, actually.”

“Right? You’re not duty-bound to serve Galar and Galar only. You’re, what, twenty? You can go wherever you like!”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Hop jokes. “I’m flattered, but this is all moving a bit fast.”

Bianca breaks into delighted laughter. Her cheeks turn a little pink, but it could just be from the wind.

“Seriously though,” she says after sobering up. “You don’t have to put up with any of this. What’s keeping you here?”

“This is home,” says Hop. Everyone he knows and loves is here in Galar. Settling down somewhere else sounds like asking for heartbreak. Well, more heartbreak than what he’s currently dealing with, anyway.

“I felt the same way about Nuvema Town,” says Bianca distantly. “My dad absolutely _hated_ the idea of me setting off on my own.”

“What made you do it?”

Bianca blinks slowly. “I don’t know. My friends? Hilda and Cheren… Professor Juniper, too. She gave me my first Pokemon.”

Maybe it had been the same for him. Gloria, his brother, Sonia and Sonia’s gran. Without any of them in his life, he never would have set down this path.

“Your brother inspired you to leave, right?” asks Bianca.

Hop raises his eyebrows. “Did Sonia tell you that?”

“No,” says Bianca with a tiny smile. “It’s just a guess. I actually have someone like that in my life, too.”

“Blimey. You’ve got an older brother who’s the Champion?”

“Close, but no cigar,” Bianca laughs. “It’s my mom. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”

Bianca pulls out her phone and quickly swipes through her photo reel. When she holds her phone up to Hop’s face, Hop’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

“Your mum is bloody _Cynthia_? _The_ Cynthia?”

“The one and only,” says Bianca shyly. There’s a hint of pride in the way she lifts her chin. She seems pleased by his reaction.

Hop whistles, mind blown. “Wicked,” he says. “...But yeah, I see what you mean. Those are some pretty big shoes to fill.”

“Yep,” says Bianca with a sigh. “But I’m learning that I don’t have to, either way.”

“How do you mean?”

Bianca pockets her phone and makes a considering noise. “I have other things to live for. I don’t have to blindly follow in my mom’s footsteps,” she says. “There are other people in my life that I care about, and other dreams I’m eager to pursue.”

“Other people, huh,” says Hop.

Bianca’s glance is much too shrewd. It makes Hop feel transparent, and entirely too easy to read.

“You have someone like that in your life, don’t you?” Bianca asks.

Hop swallows. “I might,” he admits.


	3. Chapter 3

Maggie’s birthday falls on a Saturday this year. Hop and Stella both receive party invitations in the mail, but Stella already has plans.

“Don’t forget my gift!” she yells while running out the door. “Give everyone my love! Shower them with hugs and kisses!”

“Not bloody likely!” Hop yells back.

Stella’s got the right idea about sending a gift, though. Hop still needs to get one. Problem is, while he adores his niece, he’s also a twenty year old with zero baby experience. He still has trouble doing his own laundry, for fuck’s sake.

Twenty minutes later, a trip to the closest toy store confounds him. There are too many options, too many gadgets and shiny, twirling contraptions. He ends up buying a Wooloo plush because it’s cute, soft, and understandable. And what child didn’t love a good Wooloo plush? Maggie certainly loves Dubwool to pieces, so it should go over well.

Hop brings plush-Wooloo back to his flat and finishes packing an overnight bag. He’s not bringing much, but the gifts do make it heavier than it would be otherwise.

Then he’s off to the station to catch his train.

-

Sonia and Leon live fifteen minutes away from Professor Magnolia. Their house is a charming, rustic thing, built high up in the hills of northern Wedgehurst. They’ve got a nice little picket fence and plenty of spring blooms in the front yard, and their balcony boasts a view to die for.

Pre-Maggie, Sonia and Leon used to be much messier with their living space. Hop still remembers the state of things back then: the main room strewn with gaming consoles and training weights, and the kitchen table heaping with letters, crisp bags, and whatever Leon had picked up off the street. Sonia’s office had been the only tidy room in the entire house, and that was only because she never used it.

It’s not that they’re both magically cleaner now that there’s a baby in the mix, but they’re certainly more… adult-y. His brother wears effing khakis and Teva sandals with tube socks. He stands outside with Seismitoad and waters his berry trees and flowering shrubs. Once he develops a beer belly and a penchant for telling bad puns, the evolution to full dad will be complete.

Sonia’s only two years younger than him, but she’s nowhere near as… tragic. Lee’s practically an old man at this point.

Maybe Hop will end up the same way in ten years. He can’t imagine it now, not with all the other stuff clouding his perspective, but who knows? The press adores Leon and Sonia’s happy little family. Heteronormativity looks good on them, and they really do make it seem easy. Mum couldn’t be happier that Leon had picked Sonia and then popped out a cute baby girl three years later.

In another life, maybe he would have done the same with Gloria. Childhood besties to regional power couple; the story practically writes itself.

Hop can’t quite shake these thoughts while he’s sitting on the train. He’s always been weirdly pensive on train rides. He listens to sad music and sighs a lot, leaning against the glass like a character in some sappy film.

-

After an uneventful train ride, Hop arrives at Sonia and Lee’s place just after six.

He hears faint kiddy laughter even from the bottom of the driveway. Smiling to himself, he lifts his bag over his shoulder like a lumberman and starts the long walk up.

Pink and white balloons float in bunches around the front door, some of them decorated with Pokeballs and text proclaiming “HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAGGIE!” in massive pink font. Sonia’s really pulled out all the stops for this. She’s even festooned the porch with streamers in matching colors.

Hop finds the front door unlocked, so he lets himself inside.

“Brotha!” he hollers.

“Brotha!” Leon echoes from the living room. “Go say hi to your favourite uncle, love,” he adds in undertone.

Right on cue, Maggie comes rocketing out of nowhere and latches onto Hop’s right leg. She giggles like mad when he throws his hands up and cries, “Oof! Is that you, birthday girl?”

Leon emerges from the other room with a massive smile on his face. He’s wearing pink rubber gloves and an apron, so he’s probably been washing the dishes.

“If it isn’t Uncle Hop!” he says, beaming. “Glad you could make it!”

Hop sets his bag on a chair and tugs out the presents he’s brought. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Hop says, winking at Maggie.

Leon gives him a quick hug, careful not to get him wet. “Hoppity Hop,” he says. “How’re things at the lab?”

Hop makes an effort to smile. “Who knows,” he says. Leon chuckles at this and points Hop to the table in the living room, where all Maggie’s gifts are waiting. There’s quite the pile already, lucky girl. “Stella says hello, by the way. She’s sorry she can’t make it tonight. And she sends her love to you, Maggie, and only to you,” adds Hop, ruffling Maggie’s hair.

More people start to arrive in small groups. Hop watches them come inside with their big smiles and noisy shoes. Nearly everyone rushes over to coo loudly at Maggie, remarking on how big she’s gotten, how pretty her tutu is, and other affectionate old-people tosh like that. Most of them are people Hop barely knows. He figures they’re Sonia’s uni friends who’ve gone off and had small children of their own. The kids trailing in after them are alternatively shy and rowdy, a good portion of them glued to their Nintendo Switches. Once they spot the bounce house in the yard, however, they drop everything and run straight to it.

Hop’s on babysitting duty for the first hour or so. He doesn’t mind at all. Most of Leon and Sonia’s friends are at least a decade older than he is, so they generally don’t have much to talk about. Their parents aren’t coming, either, since they’re on holiday in Alola. Occasionally a familiar face does pop up, like one of Sonia’s colleagues from work, and Hop makes polite small talk with them until they drift away. These conversations never last long, though. Most of them only want to gab about their own research.

It’s not until the Gym Leaders start arriving that Hop sees people he actually knows.

Melony and Gordie are the first to show up. They greet Sonia and Leon both with hugs and friendly laughter, their matching white-blond hair lightly dusted with Circhester snow. When Melony spots Maggie, she drops everything to run over and scoop her up, feathering kisses over her happy face. Maggie tolerates this for all of five seconds before squirming away.

Gordie stands behind them looking like a sad lump of clay. Once he spots Hop across the room, pure relief washes across his face. Hop snorts into his drink.

Gordie tiptoes around his mother to come talk to him. “Save me,” he begs, desperation in his eyes.

Hop takes another sip of his beer. “From what?”

“My mum, obviously,” says Gordie crossly. It’s amazing how he’s able to talk out of the side of his mouth like that. “I told her I’d come alone, but she absolutely insisted on joining me.”

“Sorry mate,” Hop says gravely, patting Gordie’s shoulder. “Is she cramping your style?”

Gordie shoots him a pained look. “When is she _not_ , is the better question.”

“You do know this is a two year old’s birthday party, right?”

Gordie actually lowers his sunglasses and says, “A party is a party, Hop,” and then wanders off to find the refreshments.

Nessa and Raihan arrive next. The two of them send the entire house into an uproar just by showing their faces. The kiddies erupt in cheers, tumbling over themselves in a mini stampede to go see the League’s most popular Gym Leaders. Raihan spreads his arms wide and grins at all of them like some kind of himbo messiah.

“Hop!” booms Raihan, waving.

Hop manages a weak smile and waves back. He bolts before Raihan can make his way over.

His wandering eventually leads him to the back of the house, where Maggie and her toddler pals are blowing bubbles outside. Yamper’s having the time of his life, running circles around them while snapping at the ones they miss. 

Hop pulls open the sliding door to greet everyone outside. Sonia beams up at him from where she’s crouching on the grass. She looks tired but happy.

“How are you, Hop?” she asks.

Hop ducks under a barrage of bubbles that one of the taller kids fires his way. “Fine,” says Hop. “And a bit buzzed, actually. And you?”

“Just peachy,” says Sonia as she hands another sticky bubble wand to Maggie and her excitable friends. They immediately blow as hard as they can, raining spittle everywhere. Sonia winces.

“How was the trip down here?”

“Boring,” Hop admits. “Think I knocked out for a good hour or two.”

“Good! You could use some proper sleep.”

“Could say the same for you, Professor.”

“I’ll sleep better once today is over,” Sonia admits, stretching her arms over her head. She yawns like a Hippopotas, loud and wide. “How was meeting Bianca, by the way?”

“Lovely,” he says. “We got along just fine.”

Sonia’s smile couldn’t be more obvious. “She’s nice, isn’t she?”

The sliding glass door behind them rolls open again, sparing Hop from having to answer. This time Nessa steps outside. She’s balancing a small plate laden with hors d’oeuvres in one of her hands.

Sonia’s grin is a ray of sunlight through dark clouds. She looks so, so happy. Like a giddy Yamper greeting its owner after a long trip away, Sonia leaps up to pepper Nessa’s cheeks with kisses. It’s such a blatant display of affection that Hop needs to politely turn away.

“You complete twit,” says Sonia fondly. “Late as always!”

Nessa sighs. “Blame a certain lout from Hammerlocke,” is all she says. She spots Hop and waves over Sonia’s shoulder.

“Was he hogging the mirror again?” Sonia asks knowingly.

“While snapping hundreds of selfies, no less.”

Hop leaves them to talk, heading inside with the goal of making himself another drink. It’s even louder inside the house now, the hallway overflowing with the cries of chipper Pokemon, and the couches filled up with laughing strangers.

The front door opens slowly right as Hop walks by it, and a voice says:

“—she’s turning two, Bede, not ten—”

Hop’s heart drops.

Gloria opens the door wider and steps inside, her familiar form bathed in fading sunlight. Her hair is long again, and she’s wearing a bright, floaty dress in her favorite color.

It’s too late for Hop to run and hide. He stays rooted to the spot, holding his breath until Gloria looks up and notices him.

“Oh,” gasps Gloria.

Bede comes in behind her with a handsomely wrapped present tucked under one arm. He rests his free hand against the small of her back, casual and intimate.

Hop can’t tear his eyes away.

Are they…?

“Gloria! Bede! So great to see you,” calls Sonia suddenly, rescuing them.

Numb with shock, Hop heads for the second floor for some peace and quiet.

-

His legs lead him to the balcony, which is an old haunt of his. Hop used to come here to read whenever he wanted some quiet and natural light. Dubwool would snooze in a patch of sunlight beside him while he scowled at frustrating passages in textbooks.

Now that it’s evening proper, it’s slightly cooler outside. The breeze feels good on his skin.

“If it isn’t Leon’s lil bro,” says a familiar voice.

Hop jumps, immediately on edge. But it’s only Piers waving at him from the other end of the balcony. A cigarette dangles from his lips.

“Piers! When did you get here?” Hop asks, making his way over. He shakes his head when Piers offers him a smoke.

“‘Bout an hour ago.”

“Already sick of it?” asks Hop, only partially joking.

Piers shrugs. “S’ too crowded for me. Can’t think,” he says. “Looks like you had the same idea.”

“That I did,” says Hop with a sigh. “Is Marnie here too?”

Piers jabs a finger down at the lawn. Hop spots Marnie crouching on the sidewalk with some of the older kids and Morpeko. It looks like she’s drawing little Impidimps with sidewalk chalk. Her audience oohs and ahhs appreciatively.

Hop tries to think of neutral topics. Piers… is making music now, isn’t he?

“How’s the new album coming along?” Hop asks.

“S’fine, but I need to fix some parts. Th’ lyrics don’t fit right with th’ overall theme. Producers want more of a pop sound, but that’s barkin’ mad. I can’t make music like that.”

“Nice,” says Hop. He has no clue how any of that works. “Er, any concerts coming up soon?”

“None ‘til next year,” says Piers.

“I see.”

They lapse into silence. With Piers it’s not awkward or tense, so Hop doesn’t sweat it.

“How’s the lab?” asks Piers eventually. Ah, the billion-quid question.

“I honestly don’t know.”

He must look more exhausted than he’d thought, because Piers reaches over to pat his shoulder.

“Come down to Spikemuth sometime. Battlin’ you wasn’t half bad, even if you’re one mouthy bloke. And I’m sure Marnie’d like th’ company.”

“Cheers,” says Hop. “You two are welcome to stop by Wyndon, too.”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” says Hop with a laugh.

They both watch as another figure comes out of the house to join Marnie. Even from a distance, it’s easy to tell that it’s Gloria. She bends down to say something to Marnie with a wide grin on her face. The kids gawk at her the whole time like she’s some glowing heroine of legend.

“She seems almost as tired as you these days,” remarks Piers.

“Gloria?”

“Mm. Marnie thinks so, anyway,” says Piers, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Weren’t you two mates? You’d know better than me.”

It’s not the first time Hop has heard this sentiment. He finds it odd that their reputation as bosom friends continues to precede them ten years later. Was all of Galar really that invested in their friendship?

“Not anymore,” says Hop grimly. Piers turns his head, the eye uncovered by his long hair widening a fraction.

“Lovers' spat?”

“If you’d like.” The last fight they’d had certainly _seemed_ like a lovers' spat, even though they weren’t anything remotely resembling lovers.

Piers nods. “Hope you find a way to deal with it.”

Hop flashes a tight grin. “Any tips?”

Piers raises an unopened bottle of beer. “Drink up,” he says.

-

It’s hard to make eye contact with Bede lately, and Gloria has no idea why.

Shouldn’t it be the opposite? Their date had gone surprisingly well. The morning after, they’d woken up late and spent hours just talking in bed. Their path forward seems fairly straightforward from here. There’s an unofficial checklist for Galarian heterosexuals, after all: 1.) make their relationship official on social media, 2.) date for X months, 3.) move in together, 4.) throw a big wedding, and then--

Well, essentially what Leon and Sonia have done. It’s a recipe for success. No need to reinvent the wheel and all that.

Cynical thoughts on society aside, Gloria knows that she loves Bede. There’s no other word for it. Just looking at him fills her with a tenderness that aches. She would never want to hurt him.

Once they arrive at Leon and Sonia’s, Gloria moves through the house with an odd, almost telepathic connection to Bede. Even when they’re in separate rooms, she’s completely aware of him; she feels the ghost of his touch, or the varying fluctuations of his mood. Funny that dating Bede--if she can call it that this early--has effectively turned her into Hatterene.

Sonia is far too perceptive for her own good. It’s why she’s such a fantastic researcher. She greets Bede and Gloria with the biggest grin, ever the chipper hostess, but also shoots Gloria a sly smile when Bede isn’t looking.

“Any good news for us, love?” Sonia asks. She throws an arm around Gloria’s shoulders like a sleazy car salesman.

“Well,” says Gloria. “I had waffles for breakfast.”

-

The party quiets down after just a few short hours of felicitations. They do cake and presents, roast marshmallows in the backyard, and play pin the tail on the Mudbray. The kiddies need rest eventually; they can only bounce around for so long. Once the littlest ones start crying at the slightest provocation, parents pack up and start saying their goodbyes.

In the midst of all this Gloria steals up to the second floor in search of an unoccupied loo. The first one she finds is connected to the master bedroom, which already has its door ajar. She’s amused to see that Leon and Sonia have a rather posh bathroom with a bidet and expensive bars of scented soap. Perks of the married life, she supposes.

When she heads back out, the sight of Hop slumped against the far wall stops her in her tracks. A mostly empty cup sits in his right hand.

Gloria crouches for a closer look. It seems he’s fallen asleep.

“Hop?”

“Mm?” Hop stirs, blinking blearily at her.

“Are you all right?” asks Gloria softly. It’s been a while since she’d last seen him like this. “Have you had too much to drink?”

“M’ fine, really. Just a lil sleepy,” murmurs Hop.

Gloria kneels down beside him and gently pries the cup out of his hands. “I’ll bring you some water,” she says. “Hold tight.”

“No,” Hop says, shaking his head. “Stay.”

-

Hop’s dreaming about dancing Wooloo plushies when he hears Gloria’s voice.

He opens his eyes slowly. To his great surprise, it really _is_ her.

“There we go, easy now,” Gloria says, curling a hand around his bicep and helping Hop rise unsteadily to his feet. The feeling of Gloria’s hand against his waist stirs something within him, something like warmth and deep-seated longing. Her hair smells like sweet pecha berries and sunlight.

Together they hobble over to the bed. Hop drops down onto it with a long-suffering sigh.

“Gloria?” he murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t... don’t leave yet. Please.”

Gloria hesitates. She takes a seat beside him, careful to keep her distance.

“M’ a bit drunk,” Hop explains.

“I can see that.”

Hop’s eyes settle on her face. Her tiny smile seems equal parts fond and exasperated.

“I’ve missed your freckles,” he says.

Gloria’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “Really now.”

“Absolutely. The ads always have ‘em photoshopped out. Used to bother me every time I saw it.”

Gloria raises her eyebrows, the laughter fading from her eyes. “Is that so,” she says in a quiet voice.

“And the… the little scar on your chin. The one you got from trying to give Munchlax a bubble bath.”

“Never again,” says Gloria with a shudder, but she’s back to smiling. “I can’t believe you actually remember that.”

“‘Course I do. You had to wear plasters on your chin for weeks. Your mum was _furious_ , so you’d come stay the night at ours to hide.”

“Fucking hell, Hop,” Gloria laughs. “Remind me to never let you do interviews. _Especially_ not when you’re plastered.”

Hop grins. He’s always loved making Gloria laugh. “What? Y’think Galar will change its mind about you if they hear about your battle scars? Oh, or about the time you wet the bed after watching that hilariously bad horror flick--”

“ _Hop_ ,” Gloria warns. Her cheeks are bright red from laughing so much.

 _Pretty_ , Hop thinks. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning forward to gently brush the hair out of her eyes.

Gloria goes very still.

Silence falls between them like a thick blanket. Not even the alcohol buzzing through Hop’s system can help with that.

“You said you missed me,” Hop says suddenly. “I miss you too. Constantly.”

“We can be friends again, you know,” says Gloria. “Just say the word.”

“No,” says Hop. “I don’t think we can.”

The stricken look on her face makes his heart hurt. Why is it that everything he says always hurts her? Have things between them really deteriorated this much? And why are all his thoughts coming out as irritating rhetorical questions?

“That’s rather cruel,” Gloria says.

“No,” Hop says firmly. “If I lied to you and said it would be fine, _that_ would be cruel.”

Gloria’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What does that even mean, though?”

“It means I want more from you, Gloria. I want everything.”

A wave of queasiness hits him out of nowhere. Hop shuts his eyes again, swaying a little. Part of him thinks that this isn’t happening right now, that Gloria’s still downstairs with Bede and the others. In the theatre of Hop’s mind, the two of them are surrounded by close friends and surrogate family, laughing and chatting with ease. A warm glow emanates from their happy gathering. Hop alone stands outside of it, an audience of one to their radiant show.

The alcohol swimming in his system really isn’t helping with any of this.

“Do you remember your fourteenth birthday?” asks Hop, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Gloria bites her lip and nods slowly.

“I still have those feelings for you. I don’t think they’re ever going to go away.”

“Hop,” says Gloria, her face ashen.

“I know you’re with Bede now,” Hop continues. Gloria’s mouth drops open in shock. “If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters. I would never ask you to leave that.

“But I just… I just want you to know that I love you. And if things don’t work out with Bede, you know where to find me.”

The wave of queasiness crests inside him all of a sudden, and he leans over the side of the bed to empty the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

-

Parties bore Bede.

They’re slightly more tolerable if Gloria is around, but even then it’s a struggle to fit in. Whenever he’s in a more fatalistic mood, he often wonders if others can smell the orphan on him, or if they can sense instinctively how fragile he really is. Getting older helps with that in fits and starts, but Bede knows that it will probably never go away completely. No point in being optimistic about it.

Gloria’s fairly introverted herself. It had been a surprise to learn this years ago, back when they’d first started spending time together outside of tournaments. Gloria masks her introverted heart well with sweet smiles and thoughtful questions. She spends most of her time listening and coaxing details out of people. It gives the illusion of outgoingness, apparently, and that only works in her favor as the most famous person in all of Galar.

“Sometimes I wish I were more socially awkward,” Gloria told him once, total twit that she is. If only Bede could have the same problem. “That way, reporters and fans would be keener to leave me alone. Maybe they’d even ignore me when I head out for groceries. What a thrill to imagine, isn’t it?”

“That is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, and you say plenty,” had been Bede’s curt response.

Gloria leaves his side early tonight to greet old friends and colleagues. Bede follows suit, albeit while targeting other parts of the house. He easily recognizes a few faces from previous Gym Challenges. His mind immediately supplies images of their teams and battle styles: There’s the thin teenage girl with her cunning Salazzle, and the middle-aged man with a team full of nothing but Snoms. Then he notices the trainer who’d beaten him with just his Copperajah, and his mouth twitches.

Poison types were always wily and annoying for using Toxic on anyone in sight, but the Steel types were what really ticked Bede off. It’s probably residual hate for his erstwhile father figure. He doesn’t bother examining it closer than that.

After an hour or so of mind-numbing small talk, Bede wants nothing more than to find Gloria and snog her senseless in the linen closet. He has no idea how he’s managed to keep his hands to himself for so long.

But before meeting today, they'd agreed to be discreet as possible about things. No need to notify the tabloids so soon. Privacy is a precious commodity for them both, so they treasure it whenever it's around.

The Gym trainers back in Ballonlea had definitely noticed his good mood earlier in the week, much to his deep embarrassment.

“You’re practically floating, dear,” Annette had told him. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Bede’s tried his best to be more discreet about his giddiness since then, but it’s a near thing. He’s never dealt with this before.

There’s no point whatsoever in trying to hide it from Marnie. He’s already revealed too much to her.

“I never got your mirror selfie,” Marnie greets him a few hours into the party. She passes him a new drink, this one smelling faintly of sitrus berries. Bede takes it warily.

“I don’t do selfies,” he says. “I thought you knew.”

“Sure, but I wanted t’ know which outfit you’d picked.”

Bede’s face heats up. “Pyjamas,” he says. “I wore those.”

“Bet she loved that,” Marnie says, eyes sparkling with mirth. “What else did you do?”

“We had dinner, rode the Galar Hurricane, and—” Bede cuts himself off. “—that was it.”

Marnie nibbles on the rim of her cup, smiling. She resembles Morpeko when she does this. Devious critter.

“Why are you even asking me this?” Bede asks, frowning. “I know Gloria’s already told you everything.”

“Maybe I like watchin’ you squirm.”

Marnie grins at the face Bede makes.

-

Hop wakes up with a massive headache.

“Ah. He lives,” somebody says.

Hoisting himself up on his elbows, Hop squints at the far corner of the room. Nessa waves at him from the armchair. Her Rotom phone hovers in the air beside her, its screen displaying a paused PikaTube video.

“Nessa?” he croaks. Yuck, phlegm and bitter aftertaste. He’s never drinking again after this. “What time is it?”

Nessa glances at her phone. “Nearly midnight. You’ve been out for a while.”

Hop groans. Another quick look around the room reveals that he’s still at Leon and Sonia’s. He’d planned on staying the night regardless, but spending parts of it blacked out hadn’t at all been his intention.

“Not to be rude, but--” Hop says as he rubs his eyes. “Why’re _you_ here, Nessa?”

“I’ve been assigned babysitting duty,” says Nessa drily. “Sonia’s knackered after all the running around, and Leon went out for a few pints with Milo and Raihan. You were invited too, but,” Nessa gestures at him.

“Oh,” says Hop. “Thanks, er, for checking on me.”

“No need to thank me. I’m here to keep an eye on you and the baby. Sonia thought you’d wake up before morning. She just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Snippets of his conversation with Gloria start to flood back. Hop’s shoulders sag. Right, that’s what had happened before he’d blacked out.

“I’m… fine,” he sighs. He can feel Nessa’s eyes on the side of his face.

“Gloria was worried about you,” Nessa says after a long moment.

Hop’s heart skips a beat. “You saw her?” he asks. “Is she still here?”

“No, she left hours ago. But she made sure to clean you up before that.”

“I see,” says Hop, deflating a little.

Nessa tucks her phone back into her bag and leans forward, her bright eyes focused squarely on Hop.

“Can I give you some advice?” she asks.

Hop’s head throbs.

“Can you give me some painkillers before that?” he says weakly. Nessa points at the nightstand, where a tall glass of water and two small tablets are waiting for him. Hop gulps them down immediately.

“What advice?” he asks while chugging the water.

“You shouldn’t settle,” says Nessa cryptically. “You have so many years ahead of you where great things can and will happen. And if you’re not happy now, you can always change that.”

“...Thanks?” says Hop hesitantly. “Where’s all this coming from, though?”

“Sonia mentioned that you’ve been having a rough time,” says Nessa. “And I… caught parts of your conversation with Gloria earlier.”

Hop’s head is just starting to clear up a little, but the pills do absolutely nothing for the jolt of embarrassment that he feels. He and Gloria had left the door open like idiots, hadn’t they.

Hop blushes hard. “Please, er, forget everything that you--”

“It made me realise something, actually,” Nessa interrupts.

“Oh?”

Nessa’s eyes meet his, and Hop shudders at the intensity in them.

“I think Gloria's your Sonia,” she says.

Hop’s sluggish brain takes a second to process this. “I... don’t follow,” he says.

Nessa taps her chin and frowns at whatever her thoughts may be.

“I’ve been in love with Sonia since we were kids,” she says matter-of-factly.

Hop blanches. “ _What?_ ”

“So you didn’t know,” Nessa laughs. “Guess I really have gotten better at hiding it.”

“W-wait, then what… what did you mean about Gloria being my Sonia?”

“You’re a bright lad,” Nessa says. “You tell me.”

“...Lee’s the one Sonia married,” Hop mutters. “So… Bede will be the one Gloria marries?”

“Half marks,” Nessa laughs. “Let me put it this way, then: Sonia is to me what Gloria is to you. I love her with all of my heart, just like you love Gloria with all of yours.”

“Has Sonia been telling you all this?” Hop groans.

“She doesn’t have to. You and Bede are so bloody obvious about it. It’s amazing that Gloria didn’t realise what was going on sooner. ...Or maybe it’s tragic, I dunno. Our Champion’s much better at Pokemon battles than she is at pretty much anything else.”

Hop buries his face in his hands. “Does Lee know?”

“That I fancy his wife?”

“Er. Y-yeah.”

“Probably.”

Hop gapes at Nessa, who just grins back wolfishly at him.

“I don’t understand adults,” says Hop.

“ _You’re_ an adult, Hop.”

“Yeah, but--fuck, I don’t know,” Hop grumbles. “I don’t understand _adultier_ adults, then. I mean, are you really fine with Lee knowing? Does Sonia know, for that matter?”

“Sonia knew before I did,” Nessa says, smiling fondly. Her eyes look so gentle whenever she talks about Sonia. Hop can’t believe he’d never noticed this before. “She’s wicked smart. Always has been.”

“Why are you telling me all this? Are you trying to warn me?”

“No, not at all. Honestly, you don’t have to follow anything I’ve just said. This is your life, and however you live it is entirely up to you. But I _do_ know a thing or two about falling for unattainable white girls. I’ve learned the hard way how to cope.”

The corner of Hop’s mouth twitches. “You’ve got me there.”

Nessa grins and leans back in her seat. “I’ve loved Sonia for years and won’t be stopping any time soon. Maybe it’s ruined me for other people, but who cares? I’m still happy that she’s a part of my life.

“Gloria seems to be like that for you, too,” Nessa adds. Hop swallows.

“You’re sure that isn’t settling?” he asks.

“I don’t think it is. Settling for me would be… well, marrying Raihan.”

The disgust on Nessa’s face makes Hop snort with laughter.

“I love Raihan, but he’s not really spouse material. I don’t much care for the whole notion of marriage anyway, but that’s another story,” Nessa says evenly.

“Wish Lee would give me this kind of advice,” says Hop wistfully. “I always thought I needed to follow in his footsteps, and that marrying Gloria would be the best way of doing that.”

Nessa shakes her head. “There’s plenty of time to figure things out.”

“The same goes for you, actually,” Hop says.

“Better not repeat that in front of your brother,” Nessa says, but she’s grinning.


	4. Chapter 4

The Opening Ceremony is one of the worst events of the calendar year, bar none. Bede has never cared for the pageantry of it. Gym Leaders strut across the pitch like well-trained show dogs. Other aspects are equally cringey: the slow-mo shots of each Gym Leader blowing kisses to their adoring fans, the cheesy introductions read verbatim from cue cards, and the legions of paparazzi that swarm them once it’s all over. Bede often thinks of taking a page from Piers’ book and simply not going, but Opal would have his head if he did. For once, Gloria emphatically agrees with her.

“You’ve done this for an entire decade,” she tells Bede the night before this year’s ceremony. He hears the faint noise of leaves crunching underfoot as she talks. She must be wandering around outside with her phone. “Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, used to it by now?”

“No,” Bede says curtly. Rotom floats around him as he moves to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. “And you’re one to talk. You hate it more than I do.”

Gloria laughs guiltily. “Fine, you’ve got me there,” she concedes. “Then maybe the two of us need to lighten up a bit and quit being so jaded. If this is what we’re like in our twenties, I can’t wait to find out what our thirties will bring.”

“Substance abuse and nihilism,” says Bede. “Also, I’ll have taken your crown by then.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Obviously. Who else would?”

“Leon,” Gloria says without hesitation. “He nearly had me last time.”

“Leon’s out of the running,” Bede disagrees. “You saw what he was wearing at Margot’s birthday party last weekend, didn’t you?”

“It’s _Maggie_ , for fuck’s sake. And what do Leon’s questionable fashion choices have to do with his ability to battle?”

“It has everything to do with everything. What professional Pokémon Trainer prioritises their image, let alone their career, over their children?”

“Loads of people, actually. Is that a trick question?”

Bede waves a hand even though Gloria can’t see it. “He just needs to pay someone to ghostwrite his memoir and live off the royalties for the rest of his life. Or have a sentimental biopic made about him that wins big at the awards shows. Then he can stay home and raise… Maggie.”

Gloria’s laughing at him, but he’s being serious. Mostly.

“But his glory days of being Galar’s Champion are over,” Bede continues. “He’s out of practise and can’t compete with the massive pool of new talent.” Then, in a softer voice, he adds: “Besides, you’re the best Champion Galar has ever seen.”

Gloria falls silent for so long that Bede has to make sure that she hasn’t hung up.

“I like nice Bede,” says Gloria. She sounds so shy and… flattered. Thank the bloody stars that she can’t see his face right now. She has too much power over him already.

“I’m not nice,” Bede corrects. “I’m honest.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Back to what we were discussing,” Bede says quickly. “Leon’s been out of the Major Leagues for too long. He can’t seriously compete with you, not after all the training and hyper-training you’ve done. And he’ll have to contend with young, scrappy upstarts from, I don’t know, _Postwick_ as well. If nothing else, your next biggest threat will be a ten year old who still wets the bed at night.”

“D’you think all professional trainers turn thirty and just drop dead, or something?” Gloria asks wryly.

Bede considers this. “The ones that start a family do.”

“Melony would beg to differ, mate.”

“She’s only one person. Besides, I never said you couldn’t have both. I only meant that trying to balance the two puts an impossible strain on you mentally and emotionally.”

“You must think about this a lot,” says Gloria, sounding thoughtful. Bede hears her boots scuff over gravel and wood. “But I’d prefer not to be _too_ cynical about it. It’s what I want for myself, anyway.”

Someone knocks at his door.

Frowning, Bede steps away from the stove to check through the peephole. Of course he finds Gloria standing there. She grins, flipping him the bird.

“Why,” Bede says, opening the door.

“Missed you too,” Gloria says, pecking him on the cheek. She kicks her boots off by the entrance and makes herself right at home. Mawile and Sylveon perk up as she approaches them with her arms outstretched. They each start chirping for Gloria’s attention. “Smells good in here. Are you making curry?”

“For one,” Bede says, distracted. He drifts back to the stove and stirs in some vegetables. “And I don’t believe we’re being cynical when we discuss things like this. It’s better to be realistic about what the future will bring.”

“But Leon could easily be a brilliant dad _and_ future Champion,” says Gloria. When Bede looks over, she’s cradling Mawile like a human baby in her lap. “There’s no age limit to Pokémon battles. Your mentor is a perfect example.”

“My mentor can barely remember her own name these days,” he says without thinking.

That brings both of them up short.

Bede turns back to the stove, movements wooden, but he can feel Gloria’s eyes on his back.

“Have you visited her recently?” she asks.

“Just the other day.”

“Ah.”

“She asked about you,” says Bede. “She wanted to know if you’d added more pink to your wardrobe. I told her you hadn’t. Then she spit out her dentures.”

“Way to throw me under the bus,” Gloria says, laughing.

After sprinkling salt into the pot and doubling the number of other ingredients (Gloria will never let him hear the end of it if he doesn’t actually share with her), Bede clears his throat and says, “The doctors say she has another year at most.”

It’s probably a blessing that Hatterene is asleep in her Pokeball right now. Bede’s taken to letting her rest there more and more lately. Hatterene, gentle as she is, bristles whenever she senses he’s in pain. It’s mostly out of anger at whatever is causing him harm rather than at Bede himself, but she’s still hard to face when it happens.

And Hatterene loves Opal, too.

“Bede,” says Gloria softly.

Bede touches the side of the pot without thinking and hisses at the sudden burn.

Gloria’s at his side in an instant.

“All right, move over,” she says, not unkindly, bumping him with her hip. She takes the unused apron off the wall and loops it over her head. “You ought to leave curry-making to the real professionals.”

Bede sticks his finger under cold tap water and rolls his eyes. Always so quick to disarm him with her inane comments and jibes, this one. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful for it.

“Let’s visit her together next time,” says Gloria briskly, not looking at him. “I’ll bring her some homemade curry, and we can wear matching pink dresses.”

Bede pinches her waist and she yelps, squirming away. Then, before she can squawk some cheeky insult at him or whack him with a wooden spoon, he ducks in for a kiss.

Someday, Bede won’t blush crimson after showing his affection to her. But today is not that day.

They sit down for dinner soon after. Gloria hasn’t entirely bungled their meal, but it definitely tastes different from what Bede usually makes.

“Is this what you make for yourself at home?” Bede asks her.

Gloria resembles a Skwovet with her cheeks full of curry. She nods and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You could easily hire someone to cook for you,” says Bede. “I don’t know why you torture yourself with meals like this.”

“It’s not torture,” Gloria protests, swallowing. She points at Mawile and Sylveon with her spoon. Sure enough, the two of them are happily eating their dinner on the other side of the room. “See?”

“They don’t count,” says Bede. He doesn’t miss the look Sylveon sends his way.

They finish dinner around eight and spend the next few hours watching a nature documentary on Pokeflix, bickering about uniforms, and making out.

“Are you staying over?” Bede asks Gloria at one point, squeezing her hand. It pains him to hide just how much he wants that, but it wouldn’t do to scare Gloria away this early. Things are still a bit hazy and ill-defined for the two of them. He can wait.

“We have to be in Motostoke by nine in the morning,” Gloria murmurs against his neck. Her shoulders heave with a deep sigh.

“ _You_ have to be in Motostoke by nine in the morning.”

“Ugh, fine. But if that means I have to stay overnight at the bloody Budew Inn again, I’m nope-ing the hell out. The paparazzi always find me there. Or worse,” Gloria says darkly. “ _Raihan_ does.”

Bede frowns as he considers this. He doesn’t care for that particular scenario either.

“I thought you blocked him on RotoGram the other day,” he says.

“I do that every other week. We’ve talked about this, Bede.”

“You seemed more determined about it than usual. I thought maybe something had changed.” A horrible thought occurs to him. “Did he send you unsolicited nudes again?”

Gloria balks at him. “Did you hear that from Marnie?”

“I heard it from you,” Bede deadpans, unimpressed. “You drunk-texted me at three in the morning.”

Gloria bites her lip, looking torn between laughing and crying. She settles for peppering his face with apologetic kisses instead.

“Why do I have no recollection of this,” she mutters to herself.

“I have proof,” Bede says. He snaps his fingers to summon Rotom from the kitchen table. Gloria lunges to intercept it before it can sail into his hand.

“We don’t need to look at that,” she says, cheeks pink.

Bede issues a command over her shoulder. “Rotom, read the last message from Gloria on Friday, August 7th.”

Rotom’s eyes light up and flicker as it repeats robotically: “At 4:47 AM on Friday, August 7th, GLORIA replied: lol Bed I just messaged him back ‘new phone who dis’ and guess what!! rihanna hasnt sent me another naked pic since!!1! check and mate bitches”

“Rotom, please fucking delete all messages ever received from Gloria—”

“—Rotom won’t listen to _you—_ ”

“—Rotom! This is slander! I won’t have it, my attorney will be in touch—”

Bede stops her with another kiss just because he can.

“Mmp! You can’t—keep—kissing me—” Gloria protests in outrage, “—just—to—shut me up!”

“Then stop talking already,” Bede huffs.

“No!”

Gloria’s phone startles them both with its shrill ringtone. They jump apart just as Rotom flies up to eye-level, its screen displaying an unknown number.

Gloria hesitates before accepting the call. Bede almost swats her hand away in frustration. It could easily be another rabid stalker-fan ready to confess their undying devotion. But before he can do anything, a familiar voice makes the two of them freeze.

“Hi, Gloria,” says Hop. “Sorry, are you busy?”

She and Bede stare at each other.

“H-Hop?” Gloria asks. “Er, I’m… no, I’m not.”

“Brilliant. I asked Lee for your new number and thought I’d give you a call. I, uh… wanted to apologise. For last weekend.”

Gloria’s eyes are huge. “No, it’s perfectly all right—”

“Thanks for cleaning me up. Nessa said you did,” Hop continues.

“It was the least I could do,” says Gloria.

“And then, er, all that stuff I said about being in love with you—”

“ _What_ ,” says Bede.

“—I’m sorry if it made you uncomf— wait, was that Bede just now?”

Gloria drags a hand over her face. “...yeah, sorry,” she says. “We just had dinner.”

“O-oh. Of course.”

Gloria shoots Bede an uneasy look. “Listen, is it okay if I, um, call you back?”

“Right, absolutely—”

“Great thank you bye Hop,” Gloria says in a rush.

An awkward silence fills the space between them.

“You two are talking again?” Bede manages to ask.

“Not really,” says Gloria. “We just saw each other at the party last weekend.”

She looks so guilty while averting her gaze like that. Bede tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut.

“What happened?” he asks. “Did you two have an argument like before?”

“No, no,” Gloria says quickly. She shakes her head. “He was drunk, so I helped him to the bed and—”

“Gloria,” Bede sighs.

“What?”

Gloria chews on her bottom lip and blinks rapidly, a definite sign that she’s nervous and ready to flee. His brain unhelpfully supplies an image of a frightened Buneary cowering before he tosses a Pokeball to capture it.

“...Nothing,” says Bede at last.

It makes both of them drop their shoulders in relief, eager to move on to safer topics. But even as Gloria hunts down a horror movie to watch on Pokeflix, grumbling something about being unable to sleep anyway, Bede can’t stop thinking about it. He spends the rest of the night shooting furtive looks her way.

  
  


-

  
  


“They’re so cute,” says Marnie, staring out at the lines of new Gym Challengers waiting to register.

Gloria makes a vague noise of agreement, not really paying attention. “Yes, very,” she murmurs, scrolling through random RotoGram posts on her phone.

Marnie leans over to rest her head against Gloria’s arm. She’s wearing Gloria’s jumper, the sleeves just slightly too long for her, because Spikemuth’s gym uniform still has too many rips and holes in it. Starting the Gym Challenge in mid-autumn has never made any sense to either of them, but oh well.

“Tired?” Gloria asks absently, patting Marnie’s thigh.

“A little.”

Gloria smirks. “Want to skip?”

“Can’t. Got in trouble for doin’ that last year,” says Marnie morosely. “You can blame my big bro for that. All those no-shows over th’ years added up, so now the League won’t stop pesterin’ me about attendance.”

“Sisters always have to clean up after their brothers’ messes, don’t they,” says Gloria sympathetically. She pats Marnie’s cheek, which always makes her happy.

They walk out of the changing room together once it’s a quarter to ten. The waiting room is packed full of Gym Leaders already, the atmosphere rowdy and bright as Milo and Raihan engage in an arm-wrestling match.

Nessa catches Gloria’s eye and waves.

“Where’s your other half?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

Gloria smiles weakly. It’s a running joke among all the Gym Leaders now that she and Bede are a matched set, buy one get one free. “I don’t know,” she admits, glancing around the room. Sure enough, there’s no pink anywhere to be found.

After the sirens blare out in the stadium, the Gym Leaders start to file outside one by one. Gloria hangs back a little, flashing Marnie a reassuring smile when she looks over.

She’s typing out a quick text to Bede when the elevator doors ding and open.

“Bede! There you are,” she says. “Where were you?”

Bede glances askance at her. “We’re late,” he says, ignoring her question, and nods at the doors to the stadium. He takes her hand in his and tugs her along with him, letting go just before they reach the pitch.

  
  


-

  
  


Bede’s quiet after the ceremony is over. He has one drink with Gloria and Marnie at the hotel bar before excusing himself, muttering something about taking a nap.

Marnie raises her eyebrows at this, watching him walk away.

“What was that?” she asks Gloria.

Gloria takes a long sip of her drink. It’s a virgin cocktail because she’s in no state to handle her liquor tonight.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe he’s just tired.”

“We all are, but…” Marnie furrows her brow. “Normally he makes any excuse t’ stay up with you.”

“Let’s just leave him be for now,” Gloria says. “And actually, I think I’ll call it a night early, too. Sorry,” she adds with a tired smile at Marnie’s dismayed look. “You’re always welcome to come cuddle when you’re all partied out.”

  
  


-

**Unknown:** Gloria hi  
**Unknown:** are you still in Motostoke??  
**Unknown:** I’m in town  
**Unknown:** it’s hop btw

Gloria blinks slowly at the notification banners that pop up on her screen. She’d woken up from the repeated vibrations right beside her ear. It’s still light outside, but just barely.

 **Gloria:** hop??  
**Gloria:** y  
**Gloria:** yes I m here  
**Gloria:** just woke up tho  
**Unknown:** oh crap sorry about that  
**Unknown:** I’m here for a conference  
**Unknown:** But I have some free time rn  
**Unknown:** have you eaten?

Gloria glances out her window, noticing Gym Challengers and fans alike laughing and chatting as they stroll down the streets. Gloria watches them for a bit before replying.

 **Gloria:** no not yet  
**Gloria:** did you have something special in mind?  
**Hop:** Nope  
**Hop:** where are you btw?  
**Hop:** I’m at the gym  
**Hop:** but no one’s here  
**Gloria:** ah  
**Gloria:** I’m at the Budew inn

Her fingers hover over the screen for a second. Should she tell him…?

 **Gloria:** is room service ok?  
**Gloria:** I’m in room 1102  
**Hop:** oh .  
**Hop:** yea sure  
**Hop:** be there in 20

  
  


-

  
  


Hop shows up at her door wearing massive sunglasses and what looks like one of Leon’s old hats.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he mutters, rushing past her and motioning to shut the door.

Puzzled, Gloria hurries to close it. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Reporters,” says Hop, taking off his sunglasses with a sigh. “There are hordes of them waiting down in the lobby. How’re any of you supposed to leave?”

“We’re not,” Gloria says. “I like the hat, by the way.”

Hop touches the brim of his hat and grins at her. “Recognise it?”

“Mhm. Should I take a pic and send it to Leon?”

Preening, Hop does a quick Charizard pose and she bursts into surprised laughter.

Hop picks up the menu on the nightstand and starts flipping through it, his cheeks pink. It’s adorable.

“Have you ordered already?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

They sit down together on Gloria’s bed and look through the options. Hop wants something “sort of” healthy because he’s sick of eating takeaway all week. Gloria’s fine with absolutely anything.

“Let’s try their curry,” he says, lifting the phone to his ear. Gloria balks and snatches it out of his hand, shocking them both.

“I’ll do it,” she says apologetically. “Just so they don’t wonder what strange man has suddenly commandeered my room.”

“Ah.” Hop grins sheepishly.

Food ordered, they both lean back against the headboard and stare blankly across the room. It’s quiet, but not painfully so. It’s much more companionable than what she’s used to.

“This is nice,” says Hop.

“Mm.”

Hop glances at her quickly. “Sorry,” he says, “Is this… weird? If I’m here?”

“Kind of, but I don’t mind,” says Gloria honestly. “I’m happy you messaged me.”

“You don’t look that happy,” Hop jokes.

“I didn’t sleep well yesterday,” Gloria muses. “I checked in rather late.”

Hop nods and drums his fingers against his leg.

“Why are you here, Hop?” Gloria asks, remembering the time she’d asked Raihan the same question.

“To… eat?”

Hop notices her glare and laughs sheepishly. “Okay, okay,” he says. “I’m here because I wanted to see you. And I was hoping you wanted to see me, too.”

Just looking at him makes her heart do funny little jumps. He looks much better without alcohol in his system, his eyes brighter and complexion clearer. The raw emotion she’d seen from him the other night is hidden now, but if she focuses, there’s still something there. The tiniest hint of it.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” says Hop. “I hope I didn’t dredge up any unpleasant memories.”

“You never do.”

“Find that hard to believe when you’re looking at me like that,” Hop laughs.

“Like what? Like this?” she says, leaning close and squinting at him. Hop turns red.

“No, just… I don’t mean to pry, but you’re clearly down right now. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of yesterday.”

Gloria rubs her chin thoughtfully. “Half of me believes I’m still dreaming right now,” she says. “I mean, it’s happened before.”

“What has?”

“You coming to me in a dream,” she admits.

Hop sucks in a breath. Even though she isn’t looking at him, his presence beside her radiates an addicting warmth. He must have gotten better at listening to other people over the years. A pang of sorrow makes her throat close up suddenly; she’s sad to have missed out on it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner,” says Hop. “I just… I haven’t been doing well, lately. With the lab, with family, and with… all of it, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” says Gloria. “I sprung that last meeting on you out of nowhere. If I were you, I would have bolted at first sight, too.”

“No, I should have stayed,” Hop says firmly. “Dubwool was totally judging me, by the way. He kept biting my leg.”

Gloria giggles at the image.

“Bede let me have it too, actually,” Hop says with a soft laugh.

“What?”

“Er, he didn’t tell you?”

Gloria furrows her brow. “No,” she says, confused.

“Ah. Well, it wasn’t a big deal or anything. He just told me off for making you cry. I might’ve provoked him a little too,” Hop says, rubbing his neck. “I can’t help it—whenever I see Bede, I’m thrown back to being ten years old and losing miserably to him again.”

Gloria stays silent, waiting for Hop to continue.

“Thanks for not ignoring me,” he says. “You could’ve just blocked my number, or told me to piss off. Since you and Bede are--well, you know.”

"We're not necessarily... together," Gloria says haltingly, even if it makes her stomach tighten with guilt.

Hop goggles at her.

"I love him," she hastens to say. "But this thing between us is still new, and I don't... I don't know what to do about it, honestly."

Hop absorbs this in silence. He nods as if he understands, but the confusion is still making his brows furrow.

"So he's not your boyfriend?"

"No," says Gloria.

Hop huffs a laugh, eyes widening with disbelief. "Blimey."

Gloria rests her head on his shoulder and sighs, making Hop tense for a second. After a minute, though, he laces their fingers together and relaxes.

“I’ve had your new number for a while, actually,” she tells him.

“...Sonia,” Hop groans.

“No,” Gloria laughs. “Your brother.”

“Which basically means Sonia, too,” Hop says, shaking his head. “Think I’ll take his entire _collection_ of hats the next time I visit Postwick.”

“Bagsy the one with the crown pattern,” says Gloria.

“Pretty sure that one never leaves Lee’s head,” Hop snorts. “Sorry, Glo.”

She feels him cant his head a little so that he’s looking at her. “...If you had my number for so long, why didn’t you ever reach out?”

“Would you have answered?”

“...Fair enough.”

Gloria laughs softly. “I have a flat in Wyndon,” she says. “Did you know that?”

“No,” says Hop wonderingly. “Since when?”

“Since a year ago. I was sick of all the moving around. Mum wanted me close by, preferably somewhere in Wedgehurst, but I… I couldn’t,” she says. “Not without you there.”

Hop gives her hand a small squeeze. Gloria smiles.

“...I think Bede was right,” he says. “I was a real prick to you.”

“No, you weren’t,” Gloria insists in a tone that brooks no argument. Hop relents, chastened. “If I were you, I don’t know if I’d be able to forgive me either.”

“Forgive you?” repeats Hop, puzzled. “For what?”

Gloria gestures at her uniform. It’s slightly wrinkled now since she’d fallen asleep in it. Hell, she hadn’t even taken off her bra.

“Oh, rubbish,” says Hop. “I got over that ages ago.”

“Not according to Leon and Sonia, you didn’t,” says Gloria. “They told me you were toiling away by yourself in that drippy little lab of yours, drinking shitty coffee and writing dozens of lab reports. Sonia said you looked like microwaved death.”

“Sonia’s the one who taught me that work ethic,” says Hop drily. “Who d’you think trained me all those years?”

“Still,” says Gloria, squeezing his hand to punctuate her point. “Everyone was so worried about you, Hop. We never wanted you to suffer like this. We never wanted you to leave.”

The emotion in her voice is so thick, she barely sounds like herself.

“Maybe you’ll hate me for saying this, but... I never wanted to become Champion,” Gloria continues, laughing a bit when Hop scrambles to hand her some tissues. “If it weren’t for you, I never would have set down this path. I only wanted--” She cuts herself off, stunned by the things she’s admitting. She’s never said them out loud.

Hop shifts so that he’s facing her, and the look on his face is devastating. It’s raw devotion and exasperated love, years of longing and loneliness all rolled into one.

“I think it _was_ your dream, Glo,” he says softly.

“No,” she says. “Not if it meant losing you.”

“That was never your fault,” he says, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles. “I… had some issues I needed to sort out. But that was never on you, I promise.”

“Then why didn’t you just _tell me,_ you wanker,” she snaps, half-laughing.

“Because I’m a wanker,” says Hop.

Wild, uncontrollable laughter bubbles up from inside her, and she bends over to plant her face in the sheets.

“Shit, are you crying? Glo, please don’t, I’m sorry--”

“M’ _laughing_ you idiot,” she says, voice muffled.

“Oh.” Hop sounds pleased. He laughs too, rubbing her back.

Gloria sits up and sighs explosively. “I can’t believe I cried so much over a complete--”

Hop cuts her off with a kiss.

Gloria gasps into his mouth, kissing back instinctively, even if her mind takes a bit longer to catch up. She lets her eyes drift shut and reaches up to tangle her fingers in his hair. Hop kisses her deeply, with an urgency that knocks the wind out of her. He’s so warm, so solid and _right there_. His arms wrap around her back and squeeze her tightly against his chest, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

They break apart with matching expressions of disbelief and giddiness. Hop covers his face with his hands and screams a little into them.

“Oh my god,” he says. “I don’t think I can look at you right now.”

“Why not?” Gloria teases, but she can’t look at him either.

Hop shakes his head and beams at nothing, and fuck, that’s cute. Gloria’s about to reach for him again when someone knocks on her door and announces, “Room service!”

The sweet apple curry is delicious and warming, much better than anything they could whip up on their own. They each have another helping before sitting back with happy sighs.

“What are your plans for this weekend?” Hop asks, nicking some of her rice from her plate. “I’ve been meaning to get outside for some camping. If you’re not too busy with League responsibilities, maybe you’d like to come with,” he adds a bit too casually.

Hop’s phone rings before Gloria can give him an answer. He raises it to his face and scans the message quickly. Then he curses, leaping out of bed.

“Shit, sorry Gloria, gotta go—I forgot I was meeting Stella--my assistant--after this,” he says in a rush. Gloria watches as he grabs his hat and crams it back on. He spins in confused circles as he looks for his sunglasses as well, and she can’t help but laugh at him.

Just before he leaves, he turns to peck her on the cheek. “I’ll call you,” says Hop, smiling. Gloria smiles back, completely smitten.

They walk to the door together and he shoves on his shoes, waving over his shoulder as he goes.

Neither of them expects to find Bede standing outside, his hand raised in the air to knock.

There’s a terrible pause. Bede stares uncomprehendingly at Hop, and then turns his gaze on her. Something clicks.

The flash of hurt across his face is horrible and so, so raw. He looks small and lost, but also _resigned_ , like he’d known it was coming.

Bede says nothing to either of them, turning on his heel to leave.

  
  


-

  
  


Gloria does not sleep at all the following night.

Bede won’t answer her calls, which is to be expected, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to reach him. She grows more and more desperate with every missed call.

Marnie has no answers for her, either.

“You haven’t heard from him?” Gloria asks, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

“No, but that’s nothin’ unusual,” says Marnie over the sound of traffic. She must be on her way back to Spikemuth already. “Why? You two ‘ave a row or somethin’?”

“Yes,” says Gloria. “I… I hurt him, Marnie. A lot.”

The silence from Marnie’s end makes Gloria anxious as hell. She’d really picked a fantastic time to stir the pot like this; with the Gym Challenge officially underway, all the Gym Leaders have scattered back to their posts to await the stream of new Challengers. Marnie and Bede rarely need to worry this early on, but they maintain strict training schedules anyway. They all do.

“I’ll give ‘im a call,” says Marnie. “But if you’ve got th’ time, try checkin’ any of his favourite hiding spots ‘round Ballonlea. He can’t have gone far.”

“Favourite hiding spots…?” Gloria repeats.

Marnie pulls the phone away from her face to shout something indistinct. “Sorry,” she says into the receiver again. “Fuckin’ Skwovets… they never leave Morpeko alone.”

“I have no clue where he’d hide, but I’ll give it a shot,” says Gloria as she jogs down the street. Motostoke is already bustling at this hour, steam-powered machinery clanking and whirring in the distance. A few people on the street stare at her as she passes them. She pulls her hood over her face a bit more.

“You’ll find ‘im,” Marnie reassures her. “He’d never leave without tellin’ you. Let me if you need help, okay? I’ve gotta go now.”

“Right. Thanks, Marnie,” says Gloria breathlessly. She desperately hopes Marnie’s right.

  
  


-

Gloria finds him training in the middle of Glimwood Tangle.

Bede takes one look at her and curses, returning Hatterene to her Pokeball before she can approach them and all hell breaks loose.

“Marnie,” he mutters under his breath.

Gloria stops a stone’s throw away from him, her eyes wary and bright. Clearly she hadn’t slept well last night: even under the makeup, her face is a mess, and her hair’s tied back in a messy bun.

“We need to talk,” she says.

“I don’t think we do,” says Bede harshly.

Gloria flinches. “Bede, please.”

“No,” he says. “It’s over, Gloria.”

“What is?”

Bede makes a frustrated noise. “ _This_ ,” he says. “Whatever we had.”

If Bede were the type of person to derive pleasure from other people’s pain, the exhaustion on Gloria’s face would be delightful. But he’s since unlearned those defense mechanisms. Opal’s lectured him many a time on his penchant for schadenfreude, and how truly corrosive that kind of thinking was _._

But Gloria has always been the exception to every rule, to every wall he’s ever built. She gets past his defenses so easily, both on the pitch and off.

“Because of Hop?” Gloria asks him.

“Because of _you_ ,” snaps Bede. “Why else would Hop be there yesterday if you hadn’t invited him?”

Gloria opens her mouth, but the words get stuck. She struggles to come up with something that won’t set him off. Bede wants to tell her not to waste her time.

“Did you sleep with him?” he asks.

“No,” Gloria says at once.

“Did you want to?”

Gloria shoots him an incredulous look, but Bede doesn’t take it back. He’s being unnecessarily mean to her, but honestly, she’d brought it on herself.

“Hop kissed me,” says Gloria, shutting her eyes.

Just like that, all the fight goes out of him. Bede sighs and takes a seat on an old tree stump, ignoring the angry chitters of Impidimps and Morgrems.

“Of course he did,” says Bede, staring up at the thick canopy of trees.

Gloria stays silent. She’s definitely looking at him with those sad eyes of hers, and she’s definitely on the verge of crying.

Bede is so fucking _tired._

“I don’t have anyone other than you,” he says quietly.

“That’s not true, Bede.”

“Isn’t it?” he asks wryly. “I suppose there’s Marnie, but I’m only friends with her because you are. I doubt we’d keep in touch otherwise.”

He doesn’t bring up Opal, although her name hovers in the air between them like a pall.

“I never understood why you were so nice to me,” Bede continues. “I didn’t trust you at first. I thought you were making fun of me, having a laugh with your mates behind my back. And then you were there the time I… that day in Stow-on-Side, with that bloody mural.”

Gloria sniffles, but Bede doesn’t take the bait. He doesn’t dare look up.

“I kept losing to you,” he says. “And you were _nobody_. Just a country bumpkin from the middle of bumfuck nowhere. You dressed like a grandmother and never took my threats seriously.”

Bede thinks of ten-year-old Gloria and her stunning verve, her otherworldly calm whenever she stood alone on the pitch. She’d been a tiny slip of a girl on spindly little legs, her scrappy team of Pokemon composed of whatever little friends she’d made along the way.

At first, Bede simply thought she was Hop’s irritating shadow, tagging along wherever he ran off to.

He’d been wrong, though. Very wrong.

“Rose’s sentence is almost over,” he says suddenly. “He’ll be out in society again in two years. Model behaviour, hours of community service—he’s done it all. They love him down there.”

Gloria inhales sharply. Bede smiles. Well, of course she wouldn’t know. Who else but him would keep an eye out for news of Macro Cosmos's disgraced former chairman? Besides Oleana, of course.

“I don’t want to see him ever again. I know better now,” Bede says. “I know that family isn’t for me, and it never will be. Though god knows I’ve tried.”

Gloria drops to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees and sighing. Bede glances at her, alarmed, but she’s only taking a break.

“...Did you even want it?” he asks.

“What?”

“Me,” says Bede simply.

Gloria lowers her gaze to the mossy forest floor, watching tiny critters scuttle away under the glow of the mushrooms.

“Yes,” she says.

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” says Gloria.

Bede laughs hollowly. Really, that was the worst possible thing she could have said. Well done, Gloria.

“So it _was_ pity, then. I should have known.”

“No,” Gloria says firmly. “It absolutely wasn’t.”

“It must be nice,” says Bede distantly, ignoring her, “to take on charity cases whenever it suits you. I certainly hope it helps you sleep at night.”

“Bede, that’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Bede says sharply. “Why else would you sleep with me, after all, if not to make you feel better about yourself?”

He’s finally able to look at her, and her expression doesn’t disappoint: she looks horrified. Devastated and heartbroken.

“That’s not true at all _,_ Bede,” she pleads.

“Then why?” Bede demands. “Why give me any of this? Why share your life with me?”

“Bede,” says Gloria helplessly.

“It’s not my fault,” he snaps childishly, an old bitterness poisoning his words. He’d snap these same words at the counselors running his group home, at the pig-faced bullies who’d cried after he’d shattered their teeth. “I didn’t choose to have these feelings for you. I didn’t _want_ them.”

Gloria’s face is a mess by now, her eye makeup running over her flushed cheeks and chin. She wipes at her face with the edge of her shirt. Even like this, red-faced and miserable, the sight of her moves him. She’s beautiful even when she’s this threadbare and exhausted.

Bede curses. It’s all fucked, all gone pear-shaped and impossible to repair. What did you do when confronting an unsolvable problem like this? How did you fix a _relationship_ without just throwing the whole damn thing away, and torching it for good measure? Opal had taught him so many precious, important things about life and self-worth, but she’d never prepared him for heartbreak.

 _No,_ he thinks. She’d never prepared him for _Gloria._

“I don’t want your love if it’s an obligation,” says Bede stiffly. “You don’t have to pity me, or treat me like glass.”

Gloria listens with that same stricken expression, saying nothing.

“It’s unfair to both of us if you deny your feelings in order to take care of mine. You always do this, even with—” Bede cuts off. Just saying Hop’s name is enough to make him feel deep despair. He’s rapidly approaching his vulnerability quota for the day--maybe even for _life_.

“I promise you it’s not pity,” says Gloria. “It never was.”

“Then what was it? Tell me,” says Bede, “and don’t sugarcoat any of it this time.”

Gloria opens and shuts her mouth a few times, a raw pain flashing across her face. She’s struggling, but so is he.

“I was flattered,” she says in a small voice. “Thrilled, actually.”

Bede says nothing. He shuts his eyes and nods, waiting for her to continue.

“I… I had no idea you felt that way about me. So I felt guilty at first, like I’d been leading you on. But I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, either, especially not after you were so honest with me,” Gloria says, hesitating. Bede gives her no quarter, only pursing his lips and nodding for her to continue. “One date was fine, I thought, and I had such a nice time.”

Bede’s stomach tightens with dread. His eyes fly open again. “...the sex,” he says. “Was it…?”

Gloria tilts her head in confusion. Then it hits her, and her eyes widen almost comically. “Oh god, Bede, _yes_ , it was, it totally was. I absolutely consented, please believe me.”

His shoulders lower slightly, but he’s still on edge. “...Was it bad, then?”

Gloria bites her lip to keep from smiling, but she’s only partially successful. “Not at all,” she says. “I mean it, Bede. The sex was fantastic.”

Bede’s face heats up. Gloria takes pity on him and hastens to add, “And then we went to Maggie’s birthday party back in Wedgehurst, and then the Gym Challenge started, and then…”

“...you and Hop started messaging again.”

“...yeah,” says Gloria quietly.

Bede rakes a hand through his hair and heaves a heavy sigh. He really should have known. For all that Gloria hemmed and hawed about Hop being insufferable and painful to think about, deep down, she loved him fiercely.

Marnie talks about this trope sometimes. First loves, a staple in all of her shoujo ai manga and otome games and whatever else she spends her disposable income on. Bede has no frame of reference for this sort of thing. He’s learned it all secondhand, through books, clickbait articles (“17 Signs You’re Madly in Love with Her”), and the occasional anecdote from his gym trainers.

But he’d always thought that it was just _fiction_. The stuff of chick flicks and soap operas, the kind of thing that had no bearing whatsoever on reality. The kind of thing that only happened to other people.

“I hate Hop,” says Bede, but there’s no bite to it.

Gloria really needs to stop giving him those wounded puppy-dog eyes. It’s not like she can help it, but still. “I’m sorry, Bede,” she says. “I never wanted that.”

“It’s not _your_ fault,” Bede sighs. “Even if I weren’t in love with you, I doubt I’d spend more than five minutes in his company.”

Gloria snorts. “Oh, come on,” she says, giving him a watery smile. “He’s not that bad.”

“He’s never liked me.”

“So you decided to not like him back?” Gloria really seems to be having a hard time hiding her laughter.

“You make it sound like a petty schoolyard feud.”

“It kind of is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Except it is.”

Bede throws his hands up. “Clearly you two are made for each other,” he says bitterly. “I was foolish to ever think I could get between you.”

A funny look washes over Gloria’s face. “You know that I can love you both at the same time, right?”

“Absolutely not,” says Bede. “I would never consent to a bloody threesome with—”

“Oh my god Bede, no,” says Gloria in a rush. “This isn’t a sex thing, I swear. I wasn’t propositioning you!”

“I don’t care for polyamory, either,” Bede says, unperturbed. “The notion of sharing you with Hop is atrocious. Not to mention unfair to both of us.”

Gloria seems very close to rolling her eyes. If this were any other conversation between the two of them, maybe she would. But right now she’s trying very hard not to say or do the wrong thing.

“I just meant that you both mean so much to me,” she says. “I’m capable of having two best mates. Well, three, because Marnie.”

“But you can’t have three lovers,” says Bede.

Gloria balks at him. “Since when have I ever called anyone my ‘lover,’” she says. “Have you been reading Marnie’s stash of shoujo manga again?”

“No, and stop missing the point on purpose,” Bede says testily.

“Okay, fine. Yes, I can’t have three… lovers. And I don’t want three lovers. I’m not a _complete_ slag, you know.”

“I never said you were,” says Bede. “But you’re clearly not interested in having me as your only lover.” His mouth twists. “You’d much rather marry Hop and have me on the side.”

“Fuck, Bede, I’m not some lecherous middle-aged man cheating on his wife during a ‘business trip,’ so stop putting words in my mouth. Nobody said anything about marrying Hop and making you my bloody side chick.”

The hint of anger in her voice makes Bede’s heart skip a beat. He’s always been painfully attracted to her intensity on the pitch, and the anger she’s showing right now reminds him of that.

“And I’m not some tearful housewife accusing you of cheating on me with the babysitter,” Bede shoots back.

Gloria balks at him for a second. Then she actually throws her head back and laughs. “What are we _doing_ ,” she wheezes.

“I don’t want you to pick me if your heart isn’t in it,” Bede says, cutting through her laughter. “I don’t want you to water anything down. You don’t need to handle me with bloody kid gloves.”

Gloria sobers up. She stares down at her hands and doesn’t move a muscle, listening with the smile fading from her face.

“I want you to want me with the same infuriating passion that I have for _you_. The kind that goes against all reason. The kind that ruins you for anyone else.

“I know it’s selfish,” says Bede preemptively. “But it’s all I’ve got. Either take it or leave it, Gloria.”

  
  


-

  
  


“How are you,” says Hop.

Gloria rubs a hand over her tired eyes and laughs humorlessly. “No good, I’m afraid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Bede,” Gloria says after a moment.

“Ah.”

“Yep.”

“Did you two have another row?”

“Mhm.”

“What was it about?”

“Oh, you know,” Gloria says blithely. “You.” She hears Hop’s breath hitch, and then his sheets rustle as he repositions himself.

“...I’m definitely bigger,” says Hop.

Gloria giggles until she falls over in bed. Hop’s laughing too, but he also clears his throat several times out of embarrassment.

“You’re adorable,” says Gloria sincerely.

Hop makes a strangled noise. Then he laughs. “It’s been ages since I last heard that from anyone.”

“Oh? You mean little old ladies don’t stop you on the street to pinch your cheeks and offer you candy?”

“That has _never_ happened, Glo.”

“Did too. I was there! It was like they didn’t even see me. It was all, ‘Ohh, what a precious young man you are! I’d give anything to take you home and introduce you to my daughter.’”

“I don’t remember any of this,” Hop says, laughing in disbelief. The sound is warm and deep, and it makes her toes curl in a good way.

“It was after our first go at the Battle Tower,” says Gloria. “We went out for dinner to celebrate, remember?”

“We can’t have been older than thirteen back then,” Hop says. “Any road, there’s no way an old woman would mistake me for a prepubescent boy now. Or at least I hope not.”

“You’ve met my mum, right?” asks Gloria wryly. “Last summer after that barbecue she could _not_ stop talking about you. Every time I called home, she kept singing your praises and scolding me for not keeping in touch.”

They’d even fought about it one time. ‘ _You can’t just forget your oldest friend like that. He needs you_ ,’ her mum had said.

“She always wanted you to be a part of us. Of our little family, I mean,” Gloria admits softly.

They both let that sit for a moment, content to just listen to each other’s quiet breathing.

“Your mum’s the best,” Hop says. “Think I’ll just marry her instead, seeing as I’m a hit with older ladies and all.”

“I will never speak to you again,” warns Gloria.

Hop deepens his voice and, complete cornball that he is, says, “That’s no way to address your father, young lady.”

“You sound like Leon when he’s four shots in,” Gloria giggles.

“Fuck, I was aiming for two shots.”

“Not even your own father talks like that,” she teases. “I don’t think he’s scolded either you or Leon _once_ in his entire life. Your poor mother does all the disciplining and emotional labour.”

“See, this is why I don’t believe you when you say old ladies like me,” Hop points out. “My own mum thinks I’m pathetic.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“It’s the truth,” sighs Hop. “But at least I have your mum now.”

Gloria can hardly speak through her peals of laughter. “She’d actually do it, you know. In a heartbeat. My mum loves you more than she loves floral-print wellies and Budew, and that’s saying _a lot_.”

“I’ve always liked ‘em older anyway. It’s nice to be looked after.”

“Gross,” says Gloria, wrinkling her nose. “Keep your disgusting Oedipus complexes to yourself, thanks.”

“Not gonna lie, the idea of grounding you for talking back is extremely appealing.”

“If you don’t shut your gob, I _will_ leak photos of you from Leon’s twenty-fourth birthday party.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hop says, horrified.

“I would.”

“What I looked like at fourteen is between me and god. Do not release that plague upon the world, Gloria, for all that is good and holy.”

Gloria pulls up her photo reel and starts thumbing through her albums.

“Gloria,” says Hop. “You’re too quiet.”

“Mm.”

“Are you searching for those pics.”

“Mm. Found them.”

Hop ends their call. Rotom flashes twice to signify this, a tiny text box popping up that asks, “REDIAL HOP?”

Her phone chimes with a new message.

 **Hop:** ive got dirt on you too jsyk  
**Gloria:** bring it  
**Hop:** [img]  
**Gloria:** NO  
**Gloria:** where did you find that!!!  
**Gloria:** oh my god hop  
**Gloria:** did you have that saved on your phone all this time???  
**Gloria:** do you keep a bloody folder for all your gloria blackmail or smth   
**Hop:** 😉  
**Gloria:** no  
**Gloria:** no winky face  
**Hop:** yes winky face  
**Hop:** but seriously relax, Glo  
**Hop:** I only have this one  
**Gloria:** that’s like the worst one out of all of them  
**Hop:** nah  
**Hop:** there are worse  
**Gloria:** ………….  
**Gloria** : delete that folder or else hop i s2g we are done  
**Gloria:** for real this time  
**Hop:** I don’t have a folder!!  
**Gloria:** of course you do you’re a professor  
**Gloria:** all professors love folders n shit  
**Hop:** no we don’t!  
**Hop:** who even told you that  
**Gloria:** I know things too, Professor  
**Gloria:** even if I never went to university  
**Gloria:** or read Shakespeare  
**Hop:** mood  
**Gloria:** what  
**Gloria:** how can you be a prof and not read Shakespeare  
**Gloria:** ????  
**Gloria:** are you Galarian or are you not, Hoppip  
**Hop:** not, I guess  
**Hop:** besides  
**Hop:** there’s no Pokémon in Shakespeare’s plays so  
**Hop:** no interest  
**Gloria:** ok yeah  
**Gloria:** touche  
**Hop:** 😎  
**Hop:** also  
**Hop:** I love you

Gloria almost hurls her phone across the room.

 **Gloria:** gross  
**Hop:** 😭👍🏾  
**Hop:** fuck no 👍🏾  
**Hop:** I meant 💔  
**Gloria:** 👍🏾  
**Hop:** that’s racist  
**Gloria:** 👍🏻  
**Hop:** there you go  
**Hop:** that’s a good ally  
**Gloria:** oh my GOD  
**Hop:** 😎😎  
**Gloria:** good night u wanker

She bites her lip, heart still thrumming in her chest, and adds:

 **Gloria:** I love you too  
**Gloria:** ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry bede


End file.
